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TO THE READER OF THIS 
VOLUME 


Kindly handle this book with the utmost 
care on account of its fragile condition. 
The binding has been done as well as pos- 
sible under existing conditions and Avill 
give reasonable wear with proper opening 
and handling. 

Your thoughtfulness loill he appreciated 



r 


SLAYING THE DRAGON 


A STORY OF CAPE ANN LIFE. 



Mrs. D. O. CLARK. 


The phrensy of hereditary fever has raged in the human blood, transmitted from 
sire to son, and rekindled in every generation by fresh draughts of liquid flame. 

Nathaniel Hawthornb, 

And visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and 
fourth generation of them that hate me. — Exodus xx. 5. 



New York: 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House, 
No. 58 READE STREET, 


1888. 




Copyright, 1888, by 

The National Temperance Society and Publication House. 



PRESS 6r‘ 

THE NATIONAL TEMPERANCE SOCIETY AND PUBLICATION HOUSE, 
58 READE STREET, NEW YORK, 



■ . 



UNDER HIS LEADERSHIP THE BOAT WAS PULLED HIGH ON THE BEACH. ”-^Page 6i, 




^0 m\} i^usbanb, 

WHOSE KIND CRITICISMS AND HELPFUL SUGGES- 
TIONS HAVE BEEN INVALUABLE ; AND 

mg- Motljzx^ 

WHOSE LOVING APPRECIATION HAS CHEERED ME 
IN MY WORK, THIS SIMPLE NARRATIVE 
OF CAPE ANN LIFE IS AFFEC- 
TIONATELY DEDICATED. 


Manchester-by-the-Sea, 
June^ 188-. 



CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGB 

I. The Dragon Stalks Abroad . . 9 

II. Precept and Practice 21 

III. Throwing Stones 33 

IV. The Shipwreck 41 

V. The Little Waif 51 

VI. Arnold Strong makes a Discov- 
ery 65 

VII. Some of the Dragon’s Appren- 
tices 73 

VIII. The Judge’s Son 84 

IX. An Unexpected Proposal ... 93 

X. The St. George League . . , ,109 

XI. The Dragon Works. . ; . . .123 

XII. Maurice at School .131 

XIII. The Judge versus the Minister. 141 

XIV. “Parson Strong must go”. . .151 

XV. The Midnight Adventure . . .165 

XVI. The Society of the Silver Skulls. 177 

XVII. Entrapped. 185 

(T) 


VI 


Contents, 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII. The Investigation 190 

XIX. Tom Kinmon as Eavesdropper. . 202 

XX. Reaping the Wpiirlwind . . . .213 

XXI. St. George Knights 225 

XXII. Poor Ralph 235 

XXIII. Repentance 241 

XXIV. The Bones Speak 247 

XXV. An Unexpected Guest 255 

XXVI. A Jubilee of Triumph 261 






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Ere evil we can know from good, 

Or right from wrong undo, 

By mother’s milk, by father’s blood 
The evil taints us through. 

The sins, the passions, of their past 
Our earliest steps control, 

And in our weakness bind us fast, 

Body and brain and soul. 

Be merciful, O God. 

So easy, too, the downward way ! 

So ready too our feet ! 

So golden-lined with sunbeams gay. 

And promises most sweet 1 
For evil meets us everywhere. 

In daily deed and thought. 

In church and mart, in hymn and prayer 
The good must still be sought. 

Be merciful, O God ! 


( 8 ) 


SLAYING THE DRAGON. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE DRAGON STALKS ABROAD. 

“ Because toue adveesaet the devil, as a 

EOAEIHG LION, "WALKETH ABOUT, SEEEING WHOM HE 
MAY DEYOUE.” 

Fairport-by-the- Sea was a veritable gar- 
den of Eden. Situated on the north shore of 
Cape Ann, surrounded by hills and woods, with 
the river flowing in and out and old ocean 
stretching far away in the distance, Fairport 
ranked first of all the towns on the Cape for 
the variety and beauty of its natural attrac- 
tions. 

Every garden of Eden has its serpent. 
Fairport was no exception ; and although in 
every sense of the word an earthly paradise, 
the trail of the serpent was visible to even the 
most casual observer. The curse of this vil- 

I 

lage was the Maypole Tavern. When this 

( 9 ) 


lO 


Slaying the Dragon. 

nuisance sprang into existence it was dignified 
by the name of restaurant, and for a time its 
true nature was hidden. But all disguises 
had long ago been discarded, and the May- 
pole appeared in its real character, a drinking 
and gambling place. Sad to relate, the place 
continued to be well patronized. When times 
were hard and money scarce, Landlord Mer- 
ton’s business continued brisk, and his coffers 
were rapidly filling with the price of men’s 
souls. His best customers were the fisher- 
men. Fairport was a seaport town, and a 
part of the community was composed of sailors 
and fishermen. In the spring and summer 
large numbers of these men went out in fish- 
ing vessels for a longer or shorter cruise, as 
the case might be. In the winter the majority 
of them remained at home and spent time and 
money at the Maypole, loafing about the fire 
and spinning long yarns. 

There was Rast Dow, an industrious me- 
chanic when he brought his wife Phoebe from 
her English home and settled in Fairport. 
Three happy years passed, and then came the 
terrible warfare with the dragon intemper- 
ance. The Maypole sprang into existence, 
and from that time Dow was a changed man. 
He frequented the tavern daily, neglected his 


The Dragon Stalks A broad. 1 1 

work, and was discharged by his employers. 
He became a fisherman, and hired a poor cot- 
tage at the Cove for his family. His son Jamie 
inherited a love for liquor, and young manhood 
found him a drunkard. The case of Erastus 
Dow serves as an illustration of the havoc 
which the tavern made among the fishermen. 
There were Peter MacDuff, Tom Kinmon, 
Tyler Matthews, Tom Barton and a host of 
others following hard in the same downward 
path. It is no wonder that the fishermen’s 
wives hated Landlord Merton and cursed his 
terrible traffic. 

Opposite the Maypole, and in striking con- 
trast to it in its aims, was a small church which 
had long been struggling for existence. It 
' was small in numbers, poor financially, and 
wholly under the influence of one man. Judge 
Seabury. He was Judge of the Supreme 
Court at Salem, and was a wealthy, aristocratic 
man. He owned all that part of the village of 
Fairport occupied by the fishermen and their 
families, and he was a man who used his pow- 
er with iron hand. He did not consider the 
people at the Cove worth any attention, and 
was opposed to having schools established for 
their benefit. 

“ What can you teach such animals ? ” he 


12 


Slaying the Dragon. 

asked contemptuously, when good Deacon 
Ray plead with him to assist pecuniarily in 
such an enterprise. The fishermen hated the 
man, but dared not speak against him outside, 
knowing he had the power to turn them out of 
doors. Moreover they were anxious to be em- 
ployed by him when he fitted out expeditions 
to the Banks, or the Bay of St. Lawrence, or 
the West Indies, which he frequently did. 

The Judge was not a member of the church, 
but of the parish ; and this method of church 
polity, which has proved disastrous in so many 
country churches, wrought evil in the cliurch 
at Fairport. The Judge dictated, and the 
church submitted. If anything was done con- 
trary to his wishes, he threatened to withdraw 
his support. He had settled his brother-in- 
law, the Reverend Phineas Felton, over this 
little church, partly because he wished the reins 
in his own hands, and partly because the rever- 
end gentleman was a man after his own heart. 

Mr. Felton was a type of a class of minis- 
ters not uncommon fifty years ago. \ strict 
Calvinist, guarding his theological tenets with 
argus eye, severe in his methods of presenting 
divine truth, aristocratic in feeling, and reserv- 
ed in manner, he was a man well calculated to 
inspire fear rather than love. 


The Dragon Stalks Abroad. 13 

He imbibed the social tendencies of his Eng- 
lish ancestors, and enjoyed a glass of wine as 
thoroughly as did his kinsman, Judge Seabury. 
Indeed, when the temperance question began 
to be agitated, he declared the movement to be 
a specimen of “ bald fanaticism,” and the prop- 
agators “ lunatics.” He considered it to be an 
infringement upon his moral liberty. It was 
dictating as to what he, in matters of con- 
science, should do, — a right which he, at least, 
would not yield to any man or class of men. 
He therefore held his position with the same 
dogged tenacity with which he held the five 
points of Calvinism, and boldly denounced total 
abstinence as a subterfuge of the arch-enemy, 
and the pledge system as a libel on one’s man- 
liness and strength of character. To be sure, 
he deplored the fact that the Maypole attract- 
ed so much patronage, and pitied those who 
were so weak morally, that they could not 
drink just enough and no more. But he made 
no attempt to battle against this rapidly grow- 
ing evil of intemperance, and dismissed the 
subject with the words, “ Men will not always 
make fools of themselves. They will learn mod- 
eration from experience.” Such was the pas- 
tor of the little church in Fairport-by-the-Sea, 
a church which had stood for a score of years, 


14 Slaying the Dragon. 

opposite the Maypole, having a name to live, 
and yet dead. And such briefly vras the social 
condition of Fairport, at the time our story 
begins. 

It was a cold November night. The wind 
howled through the leafless branches of the 
trees, and chilled man and beast with its icy 
breath. Ever and anon a fresh gust brought 
with it a mixture of snow and rain. The roar 
of the breakers could be heard distinctly above 
the howling of the wind. Altogether it was a 
d(isolate night. The lights in the old Maypole 
looked very inviting at they sent welcome rays 
far out into the darkness. 

“ We shall have business enough to-night,” 
chuckled the landlord, as he looked out of the 
window, at the same time rubbing his palms 
together with evident satisfaction. “ Look 
here, John ! ” addressing his nephew, who stood 
smoking a cigar, “ put a lamp in evei'y 
dow which faces the street, and spread the cur- 
tains, that all who pass may see the good cheer 
which old Maypole can give. Ha, ha ? the 
mice are beginning to fall into the trap,^' he 
muttered, as lie went forward to meet a half 
dozen rough fishermen who were starting 'for 
their homes at the Cove, but could not get hy 
the Maypole without making an informal call. 


15 


The Dragon Stalks Abroad. 

“ Give us some grog, quick ! We’re almost 
frozen,” called out Rast Dow. “ We’ve got a 
good two miles to walk in this confounded 
sleet. Fill her up to the brim,” he cried. Sev- 
eral times he drained the glass, with the rapid- 
ity of an old toper. It was not long before the 
effects of the draught became apparent. 

“ Long live the Maypole ! ” he cried noisily, 
“ I tell you, boys, I feel a good deal more like a 
spinnin’ wheel nor I did before.” 

Loud laughter greeted Rast’s speech. 

“ Guess you’re pretty well set up ! ’ 

“ Don’t b’lieve you’ll ever get ter the Cove 
ter night ! ” 

“ The old fool don’t know when ter stop 
drinkin’ ! ” 

Such were the remarks which came from the 
group of men who had accompanied Rast. The 
drunken man seemed to realize the force of 
their words, for straightening himself, and but- 
toning his coat with trembling fingers, he stag- 
gered toward the door. 

“ G-Guess I’ll go now, an’ see what the o-old 
woman’s up ter. Jess like’s not sh-she’ll lock 
me out, or s-set the young rascal t-ter play 
some t-t- tricks on his old dad.” 

With this attempt at joking, he turned to go. 
But the wily landlord did not care to have his 


1 6 Slaying the Dr'agon. 

game slip through his fingers so easily. He 
had designs on the crowd of fishermen before 
him. He knew they had that morning dis- 
posed of a load of fish^ and he had reason to 
suspect that the money was in their pockets. 
Once get the party drunk, and the rest could 
be managed without difficulty. 

“You’re not going home so early, are you, 
Rast? Phoebe won’t care about your staying 
a while longer, if you don’t break orders again. 
Boys,” he added, as Rast lifted the door latch, 
“ here is a specimen worth looking at — a man 
tied to his wife’s apron strings — Ha, ha ! Has 
to mind Phoebe ! Ha ha ! ” 

These stinging words, together with the 
shout which rose from the noisy crowd, took 
immediate effect. Turning upon his persecu- 
tor, Rast cried, “ Who says I’m tied to my 
wife’s apron strings? Let him say it agin, if 
he dare ! ” 

“ Let him alone, Cap’n,” growled Tom Kin- 
mon, a burly fisherman, who had been a silent 
spectator of this side show. “ What d’yer want 
to mad the crazy coot fur ? He’ll make things 
lively fur ye ef ye git him started. Rast, old 
fellow, ye’re all right ef ye keep cool. Mer- 
ton’s only chaffin’. But ye’re got enough drink 
inside ye fur one night.” 


The Dragon Stalks Abroad. 17 

"Guess I-I know wh-when I’ve go-got 
enuff,” stammered Rast, leaving his post by 
the door, and going with unsteady steps to- 
ward the bar. “ I’ll dare ye ter shake fur 
drinks, Merton ! ” 

The landlord accepted this challenge, and 
produced the dice. 

" Blast that Merton,” muttered Tom Kin- 
mon, “ he means ter git all the money from 
this crowd. He sha’n’t git any more of mine 
then I’m willin’ he should. ’Taint my busi- 
ness to look after Rast or his money. He’s in 
fur it, now. Phoebe ’ll never see a cent fur this 
week’s work. The Cap’n’s an old thief!” 

“ What did you order ? ” said Merton. " I 
thought I heard you say something.” 

“ Umph I ” replied the fisherman. “ Give 
me a glass of gin-sling, and mind ye, Cap’n, 
ye needn’t bring me the kind ye bull-dozed 
Rast with. Ye give me the best, or blast ye 
I’ll teach ye the one lesson of ye’er life. Ye’re 
the curse of Fairport, and ye know it, and we 
know it, but we’re fools enuff to come here 
and drink ye’er pison. But our money isn’t all 
yers, and ye’ve no right to fleece us as ye do. 
And mind ye, ef ye try yer cranks on me ye’ll 
ketch it.” 

The landlord cowered before the plain 
2 


1 8 Slaying the Dragon. 

words of the old salt, and ordered his nephew 
John Merton to wait on Tom. Kinmon was 
not a man to be trifled with, as the in- 
mates of the tavern well knew. He rarely got 
drunk, although he was a regular customer at 
the Maypole. Tom drank his potion leisurely, 
then placing his glass on the counter, stood 
watching the different groups of card players. 

While the landlord, who had enticed Rast to 
play, was busy with the game, his nephew 
quietly emptied the contents of the till into 
his own pocket, and stole into the outer dark- 
ness. 

The bell in the church steeple struck the 
hour of midnight. The chimes rang out slowly 
and solemnly, still the old tavern echoed with 
shouts, oaths, and drunken revelry. At last 
there came a sound upon the night wind which 
startled the noisy crowd into silence and 
blanched the faces of the debauchees. An 
agonizing shriek rose on the air. Again and 
again it sounded in the ears of the affrighted 
crowd. Hurrying feet came up the steps. 
The door was flung open, and on the threshold 
stood Phoebe Dow, her face white as death 
and her long black hair hanging loosely about 
her shoulders. Her great anguish had driven 
her out in the storm to seek her husband. 


The Dragon Stalks Abroad. 19 

There she stood, looking wildly around but 
uttering no word. 

Rast Dow sprang to his feet, sobered by the 
sudden spectacle. 

“ What is the matter, Phoebe ? ” he cried. 
“Ye look as though ye had gone clean daft. 
Out with it, girl ! ” 

“ My boy, my Jamie ! ” shrieked the woman. 
“ This is all I’ve got left of him,” holding out 
a sheet of paper on which was some writing. 
“ He’s run away to sea. I shall never see 
him again ! My boy ! my boy ! Curse the 
Maypole tavern ! Curse you and yours ! ” 
she cried, pointing her finger to the frightened 
landlord. “You tempted my boy to drink 
when you knew his weakness for it. You 
have ruined my husband, body and soul. You 
have robbed me of all I held dear in life. 
If there be a God may He avenge my wrongs 
speedily.” With these words Phoebe fell to 
the floor senseless. 


** Drink ! said the Demon, Drink your fill I 
'Twill fill your homes with grief and care, 

And clothe your back with tatters. 

'Twill fill your hearts with evil thoughts, 

But never mind ! What matters ? " 


(20) 


CHAPTER II. 


PRECEPT AND PRACTICE. 

“ This learned I from the shadotf of a tree, 

That to and fro did swat hron a wall, — 

Our shadow-selves, our influence, mat fall 
Where we can never be.” 

That same night Erastus Dow was stricken 
with delirium tremens, and for weeks his life 
hung trembling in the balance. A strong 
constitution triumphed over the disease and he 
came back slowly to convalescence. Feeling 
softened by this terrible experience, and quite 
ready to make good resolutions for the future, 
he sent for his minister to come and talk with 
him. 

The Rev. Phineas Felton decided, while 
walking to the Cove, to give his parishioner 
some wholesome advice, hoping by the sound- 
ness of his logic and the sternness of his me- 
thod to awaken the drunkard’s slumbering 
conscience. 

A more wretched looking man than Erastus 
Dow would be hard to find. His face was 

( 21 ) 


22 


Slaying the Dragon. 

haggard, his eyes wild and staring. Near 
him sat Phoebe, her raven hair thickly sprink- 
led with silver threads. Long continued anx- 
iety had made her prematurely old. Her boy 
had been her idol, and his cruel conduct had 
v/ell-nigh broken her heart. 

Pm a hard lookin' cove; parson," said Rast, 
as the minister entered the humble cottage. 
‘‘ My craft come purty near goin' to the bottom, 
but I ruther guess I shall float this time." 

My unfortunate friend," replied Mr. Felton, 
give God the glory for your marvellous re- 
coverj^ He has given you one more oppor- 
tunity tc repent, and woe be unto you if you 
do not embrace it. I am truly sorry to find 
you so low down in the gutter, and trust that 
the terrible experience through which you 
have just passed, which was heaven's just pen- 
alty for your sin, may work in you the peace- 
able fruits of righteousness. I hope you have 
sent for me in order to converse upon religious 
themes." 

Dow looked upon the stately minister, clad 
in the richest broadcloth, with feelings akin to 
awe. But the polished language which came 
from those lips conveyed but little meaning to 
his beclouded brain, and he stared vacantly at 
the speaker. 


Precept and Practice, 23 

Mr. Felton wants to know why you’ve 
sent for him,” interposed Phoebe, seeing her 
husband’s look of perplexity. 

'' Wal, you see, parson,” said the man, pluck- 
ing nervously at the bedclothes, ‘'sencel’ve 
ben lyin’ here I’ve thought of a good many 
things, an’ one was thet drink want the best 
thing fur me.” 

'‘You are right there, Erastus,” said the 
minister emphatically. " It is very evident 
that you have a natural craving for alcohol. 
In fact your wife has told me as much. You 
have indulged this appetite until it has become 
your master, and you are its slave. There is 
no course open to you now but abstinence, to- 
tal, entire. You must not allow another drop 
to pass your lips unless you desire to have a 
recurrence of delirium tremens. The doctor 
says you cannot survive another attack.” 

The sick man shuddered at the minister’s 
closing words. 'T’d do most anythin’, parson, 
ruther than live over the last few weeks. No 
one knows what I’ve suffered only those es has 
had the tremens. Thare’s ben many a night 
when Tom Kinmon an’ Tyler Matthews had 
all they could do ter keep me on the bed. 
Thare were snakes a-crawlin’ over the bed an’ 
winding themselves round my neck. An’ then 


24 Slaying the Dragon, 

thare was a horrible lookin’ beast, like pictures 
I’ve seen of dragons, an’ it kep| cornin’ nearer 
an’ nearer till I would struggle an’ scream from 
fright, an’ tlien the monster would creep away 
only to come back agin ez soon es it was dark.” 

“Ugh!” and Rast shuddered as he recalled 
these painful scenes, and placed his hands over 
his eyes as though to blot out the sight from 
his memory. 

“ Ruther than hav the tremens again, par- 
son,” he continued, “ I’d leave off drinkin’, an’ 
sign the pledge. I hev thought the matter 
over a good deal since I’ve been lying here, tin’ 
Phoebe, she said so much ter me about signin’ 
off, thet I thought I’d talk it over with you an’ 
git your advice.” 

“ O my husband, my husband 1 ” sobbed 
Phoebe, falling on her knees, and burying her 
face in the bed clothes. “ You will be a saved 
man if you will only do this. We will be hap- 
py again, and perhaps our Jamie will return to 
us, and we will teach him better things.” 

The sight of his wife’s emotion, moved Rast 
to tears. “Poor Jamie,” he whispered, “ ef 
I’d hev set him a good example, he’d never hev 
grown up sech a wild cove. Wal, parson, what 
d’yer think ? ” 

“ Erastus, I am rejoiced to hear you express 


Precept and Practice. 25 

it as your s,olemn conviction that intoxicating 
liquors are dangerous for you to imbibe, and 
that you intend to leave them off. No one 
could more heartily approve your plan than do 
I. You have a natural appetite for alcohol, 
and you have indulged this appetite to an 
alarming extent. Your will has become enfee- 
bled, and no longer rules. It is chained — the 
slave of your appetite. The only safe course 
open to you, is abstinence. If signing what is 
popularly termed ‘ the pledge ’ will help you 
to keep your resolutions, I see no objection to 
your taking it. Your case is an extreme one, 
therefore extreme measures must be used. Still, 
you must bear in mind, Erastus, that your help 
lies in God — not in a pledge. If you do not 
look to Him for strength, you will surely 
fail.” 

Rast drank in with eagerness every word 
which the minister uttered. Resolution was 
written on his countenance, and already the 
dawn of a new manhood shone in his eyes. 

“ Couldn’t you draw me up a pledge on a 
piece of paper ? ” he inquired, after a moment’s 
silence. 

“ Thank God ! Thank God ! ” cried Phoebe, 
witfi streaming eyes. 

“ Certainly, Erastus,” said the minister, and 


26 


Slaying the Dragon. 

taking a slip of paper from his note book, he 
wrote these words : 

“ God helping me, I will drink no more iij- 
toxicatinsf liquors as a beverage. 

“ Signed.” 

“ Put your name right after the word sign- 
ed,” said Mr. Felton, handing paper and pencil 
to the fisherman. With trembling fingers the 
drunkard wrote his name as he had been di- 
rected. 

“Now, parson,” he said, handing the paper 
to Mr. Felton, “jest put your name down 
alongside of mine, so es ter make a kind of 
contract between us. ’Twill help me lots, I 
know. The fellers at the Maypole hev sed 
lots of hard things about you, but I’ve never 
b’leeved a word on’t. If you sign this paper 
with me, it’ll stop all the tongues in Fairport 
thet’s been Mowin’ es how you loved wine bet- 
ter than souls. Come now, parson, will you 
doit?” 

The Rev. Phineas drew back haughtily, at 
this uncouth proposal, and did not deign to see 
the paper which was held out for his signature. 

“ My wretched friend,” he began, “ you 
have entirely mistaken the meaning of my 
words, if you have conceived the idea that I 


Precept and Practice. 27 

advocated total abstinence for everybody. Far 
from it. Total abstinence and the pledge sys- 
tem are extreme measures to be employed only 
in extreme cases. When a man gets into that 
condition where his will power is gone, and all 
his strength of character is gone too, then 
these outside influences may come in to act as 
props until the man can once more stand alone. 
You, Erastus, have come to this deplorable state 
through over indulgence. Instead of following 
the Apostle’s command to use the good things 
of this world as not abusing them, you have gone 
to the extreme of indulgence, and have brought 
yourself under the power of appetite. I advise 
you to adopt total abstinence for the reason 
specified. It is the only safe course open to 
you. On the other hand, I am strong, judi- 
cious in the indulgence of appetite, and use 
moderation in all things. Our cases are as 
far removed as the opposite poles of the bat- 
tery. Why should I, then, who feel no need 
of restriction, sign away my moral liberty ? ” 

“ Because a weaker brother, one for whom 
Christ died, asks you who are strong, to help 
him conquer the demon within him. He asks 
you, I ask you, in God’s name, to stretch forth 
your hand, and help lift him from the pit into 
whicli he has fallen. Dare you refuse, you 


28 Slaying the Dragon. 

who are Christ’s servant, you who stand in 
Christ’s stead, entreating men to come back to 
God ? Dare you, I say ? ” and Phoebe clutched 
at the minister’s sleeve in the frenzy of despair. 

“ Woman,” said Mr. Felton, sternly, “ you 
are beside yourself, or you would not address 
such language to me. Yes, I dare to follow in 
the footsteps of my Master. He came eating 
and drinking. He preached moderation, and 
condemned gluttony. So do I. You beg your 
husband’s salvation of me. God alone can cre- 
ate in him a clean heart, and renew a right 
spirit within him. I will gladly stretch forth 
my hand and lift him from the depths if I can 
do this without sacrificing a principle of my 
being. When you ask impossibilities, I can 
but refuse.” 

Erastus Dow’s face had been slowly dark- 
ening during Mr. Felton’s speech. When the 
minister had finished, he broke forth in a sul- 
len tone : 

“ I ain’t got much book lamin’, an’ I can’t 
make out what all your big words mean, but 
ef I git your idea, it’s thet total abstinence is 
fur good fur nothin’ sots like me, an’ mod’rate 
drinkin’ is fur men of your standin’.” 

“Not quite that,” replied the minister. 
“ Pray don’t wilfully misunderstand me, Dow, 


Precept and Practice, 29 

Total abstinence, as I have repeatedly told 
you, is for all, rich and poor, who cannot curb 
an unlawful appetite. It is for you, if you need 
it, and you admit you do, and for me if I need 
it, which I do not. Do you now understand 
my meaning ? ” 

Rast looked dissatisfied, then he said slowly, 

“ Es near es I ken make out, parson, total 
abstinence ain’t ter be found in the Bible, and 
mod’rate drinkin’ is. ’Praps you ricollect jest 
quotin’ some Scripter which sed es how a lee- 
tle wine was good when it want abused. How 
is it, parson ? Does the Bible back up your 
views ? ” 

“ It does not,” cried Phoebe, with blanched 
lips, as she realized whither her husband’s 
thoughts were drifting. “ The Bible says, 
‘ Look not thou upon the wine when it is ■‘d : 
when it giveth its color in the cup : u "t 
moveth itself aright : at the last it biteth 
serpent, and stingeth like an adder.’ L 
me, Erastus, this is God’s truth. It is the .u 
your mother taught you when you were a child. 
All other reasoning is from the evil one.” 

Rast still kept his eyes fastened upon the 
minister’s face. 

“ Which of you is right, parson ? ” he said, 
at length. 


30 


Slaying the Dragon. 

“ Erastus,” replied Mr. Felton, “what I have 
said, I have said. I cannot again repeat my 
line of argument. I fear you are talking sim- 
ply for the sake of argument, and time spent 
this way, is lost time.” 

“ Do you git your argyment out the Bible ? ” 
persisted the fisherman. 

“ Certainly.” 

As quick as a flash, Rast tore his pledge into 
pieces, and scattered the bits of paper on the 
floor. 

“Phoebe, d’yer hear? The Bible upholds 
mod’rate drinkin’ and the parson practices it. 
D’yer think I’m going ter set myself up ter be 
better’n them? No sir, you bet I don’t! I’ll 
be a mod’rate drinker. It’s good company I’m 
in, wife.” 

^'^rs. Dow burst into passionate weeping, 
m .e clergyman took his hat, and prepared 

I ifistus Dow,” he said, sternly, “I forbid 
yv pjsing such abusive language in my pres- 
ent You have wholly misconstrued my 
words and reviled at my counsels. I will now 
leave you. If at some future time you should 
desire spiritual help, I shall be sincerely glad 
to impart it. I trust you may soon be in your 
right mind.” 


Precept and Practice. 31 

As he left the room, Mrs. Dow turned upon 
him such a look of reproach and anguish, as 
haunted the worthy divine for many a day. 

“ You need not trouble to come again,” she 
said. “ It will be of no avail.” 




And though this world, with devils filled, 
Should threaten to undo us ; 

We will not fear, for God hath wHled 
His truth to triumph through us. 

The prince of darkness grim, 

We tremble not for him ; 

His rage we can endure. 

For lo ! his doom is sure. 

One little word shall fell him ! 

Martin Luther. 


( 32 ) 


CHAPTER III. 


THROWING STONES. 

Theottgh tattered clothes small vices do APPEAE ; 
Robes and fueeed gowns hide all. Plate sin with 

GOLD, 

And the strong lance of justice huetless breaks; 
Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw doth pierce it. 

Shakespeare. 

Erastus Dow is dead, and yonder is the 
little funeral procession led by the Rev. Phin- 
eas Felton, carrying the body of the drunk- 
ard to its last resting-place. A small company 
of ffshermen and their wives walk to the 
grave, partly because they mourn the loss of 
one who when sober was a kind and genial 
neighbor, and partly because they sympathize 
with the widow in her double affliction. 

After Mr. Felton’s visit to the Cove, Erastus 
Dow had grown sullen and morose. All his 
good resolutions seemed to have left him, and 
returning strength found him once more seek- 
ing his cups. A second attack of delirium tre- 
mens cut short his earthly career. He was 
3 ( 33 ) 


34 Slaying the Dragon. 

called before the judgment bar of God, to an- 
swer for the deeds done in the body. 

That night the company at the Maypole was 
less hilarious than usual. The solemn events 
of the day had made somewhat of an impres- 
sion upon these rough men, and unconsciously 
the impulse to adopt a new and better life was 
awakened in more than one heart. The con- 
versation very naturally turned upon their de- 
ceased comrade. 

“ Poor Rast,” said Tyler Matthews. “ He 
want old enough ter be picked off. He ought- 
er lived thirty years longer. I tell ye boys, 
there’s more’n one ter blame fur his death ; ” 
and Matthews dropped his head on his hands 
and appeared lost in the attempt to solve this 
problem. 

“ Who d’yer expect’ s ter blame ? ” snapped 
Landlord Merton, eyeing his customer with 
suspicion. “ You’d better make your meanin’ 
a leetle plainer, Ty. It don’t reflect well on 
some on us.” 

“ The coat fits, don’t it, Merton ? ” laughed 
Tom Barton. “Wall, I guess you arees much 
ter blame es any one. Rast didn’t know when 
ter stop drinkin’ and you kept him at it till his 
money was gone. No offence ter you, boss. 
We’re talkin’ fac’s ter-night.” 


Throwing Stones. 3 5 

“ You’d better git out o’ here ef you’re goin’ 
ter talk thet way,” blustered Merton. 

“ Come now, don’t git huffy,” said Mat- 
thews. “ We don’t mean nothin’. Rast was a 
good cove, kind and obligin’, an’ its nat’ral thet 
we should want ter talk of him an’ excuse his 
faults. I say agin thet thare’s more’n one ter 
blame fur Rast Dow’s funeral.” 

“ I guess Parson Felton hed es much share 
in the business es I did,” said Merton. “ They 
say thet Dow offered ter sign the pledge ef the 
parson would put his name down too, but Fel- 
ton wouldn’t, an’ Rast flung the whole business 
up. Now, boys, you needn’t look at me es 
tho’ I was Rast Dow’s murderer. I tell you 
the parson is more ter blame then I be. He 
might hev helped Dow on to his feet again, an’ 
he wouldn’t do it because he didn’t want ter 
give up his glass of wine. He don’t care any- 
thin’ about poor folks. Their souls ain’t worth 
savin’. Ef Dow hed asked me ter help him by 
signing the pledge, I don’t know, boys— 
’twould hev put me inter a purty tight place — 
but I don’t know, I say, but what I should hev 
done it.” 

“ Velly goot, velly goot, mine frend,” said 
Carl Schmidt, dryly. “ Vill you sign von 
pledge vid me, to-night ? ’’ 


36 Slaying the Dragon. 

The tavern echoed with laughter at the Ger- 
man’s droll remark, and Landlord Merton turn- 
ed to wait on a new customer, with a discom- 
fited air. 

“Let’s change the subject,” growled Peter 
MacDufif. “ Who wants ter hear about dead 
folks all the time ? The parson’s ter blame, of 
course, fur the poor cove’s death. Thet’s plain 
ter be seen. We all know he ain’t no better’n 
the rest of us, unly he wears finer clothes, an 
don’t hev ter work with his hands. Parsons 
are all alike. Leaky crafts, most on ’em.” 

“ Thet ’ll do, boys,” broke forth Tom Kin- 
mon, who had remained silent during this brief 
conversation. “ Those es lives in glass houses, 
shouldn’t throw stones. Parson Felton made 
a mistake when he refused to sign the pledge 
with Rast. It was a dreadful mistake, an’ 
helped ter harden Dow’s heart, an’ hasten his 
end. But then, boys, you all know thet at 
heart, Mr. Felton is a good man, an’ means ter’ 
do what is right. He don’t see the temper- 
ance question right, an’ thinks he is doin’ God 
service when he stands up fur mod’rate drink- 
in’. He’ll live long enuff ter see his mistake, 
you see ef he don’t. Thare’s unly one plank 
fur a minister ter stan’ on, an’ thet is the total 
abstinence plank. If he launches forth on eny 


Throwing Stones. 37 

other raft, he’ll go under. Thare’s no help fur 
it. Landlord, I don’t blame ye fur thinkin’ the 
parson was consid’rable out the way, but hadn’t 
you better look round your own back door; an’ 
see if it’s clear? You’ve got somethin’ ter 
answer fur es well es the parson. You’ve made 
lot’s o’ money out of Rast Dow. Can’t you 
look over your gold an’ pick out pieces thet’s 
stained with the blood of our comrade ? ’Tis 
the price of his soul ! ” 

The landlord shuddered at these words, and 
no one dared to speak. There was something, 
to-night, in the manner of the usually silent 
fisherman, which awed his listeners. 

“Yes,” continued Tom, “the parson ’s ter 
blame, the landlord ’s ter blame, and boys, we 
are ter blame, too. We hev helped Rast by 
our words, and still more by our example, ter 
go ter the dogs. He hes follered where we 
led. He was weaker then we, and his appe- 
tite fur drink was stronger. Did eny of us try 
ter help him ? No, we let him go ter destruc- 
tion. Now boys, d’yer think we’ve got eny 
business ter be a-throwing stones ? Let’s own 
up thet we’re ter blame es much es others, an’ 
stop a-lookin’ round ter find some person on 
whose back to pile the burden. What we orter 
do is ter profit by Rast’s sad end. I fur one 


38 Slaying the Dragon. 

mean ter sign the pledge right away, an’ I hev 
drinked my last glass of liquor. I mean ter 
look after my family now, an’ visit the May- 
pole less.” 

Profound astonishment was depicted on 
every face when the fisherman ceased speak- 
ing. Peter MacDuff was the first to rally. 

“ Tom Kinmon’s a teetotaler ! Ha, ha ! 
That sounds well, don’t it ? ” The sneering 
words failed to produce any impression upon 
the crowd. The landlord began to taunt 
Kinmon with the change in his principles, when 
siiddenly the laugh froze upon his lips and his 
eyes started from their sockets. He put 
both hands out as if to ward off some unseen 
object 

“ What’s the matter ? ” cried the men, spring- 
ing to their feet and approaching the fright- 
ened Merton. 

“ There’s the ghost of Rast Dow !” whisper- 
ed the man, pointing to the wall, on which 
the flames from the open fire cast grotesque 
shadows, and with a yell and a bound he 
sprang to the door and ran out into the dark- 
ness. 

Whether the landlord had drank too much 
liquor and the vision was the result of a dis- 
ordered imagination, or whether, like Macbeth^ 


Throwing Stones. 39 

an awakened conscience clothed the unreal 
with all the horrors of the real, we know not. 
Tom Kinmon affirmed the latter view to be 
the true one, while Tyler Matthews, who also 
had imbibed to some extent, swore that he 
saw a shadowy hand, which pointed directly to 
the landlord, and he knew it to be Rast Dow’s 
hand because it lacked a little finger. Be this 
as it may, Erastus Dow’s death was productive 
of good. Tom Kinmon reformed, the re- 
mainder of the fishermen were, for the time, 
sobered, and a rumseller’s heart was pierced by 
the arrow of remorse. 


Break, break, break, 

On thy cold, gray stones, O Sea ! 

And I would that my tongue could utter 
The thoughts that arise in me. 

O well for the fisherman’s boy, 

That he shouts with his sister at play ! 

O well for the sailor lad 

That he sings in his boat on the bay ! 

And the stately ships go on 
To their haven under the hill ; 

But O for the touch of a vanished hand, 

And the sound of a voice that is still ! 

Break, break, break, 

At the foot of thy crags, O Sea ! 

But the tender grace of a day that is dead, 
Will never come back to me. 

Tennyson. 


( 40 ) 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE SHIPWRECK. 

Treacherous in calm and terrible in storm, 
Who shall put forth on thee, 
Unfathomable sea? 

SheUey, 

Time works many changes, and a span of 
five years wrought its measure of good and 
evil for the little village of Fairport^by-the-Sea. 
The Maypole had passed into other hands. 

Landlord Merton was a superstitious man, 
and after the terrible night when the vision o^ 
Rast Dow appeared to him, he had known 
peace. A keen remorse filled his soul. At 
last he sold tfie tavern, and left the place. His 
successor. Landlord Chase, was very popular, 
and his gentlemanly ways and suave manners, 
proved him an accomplished agent for the dra- 
gon of intemperance. Business had never been 
so flourishing at the Maypole as now. The 
tavern had been remodelled, easy lounging 
chairs had been provided, and billiard tables 

(41) 


42 Slaying the Dragon. 

proved a tempting bait to young men and 
boys. 

The Rev. Phineas Felton had resigned his 
pastorate, and a young man had just been call- 
ed, fresh from the seminary. Mr. Felton plead 
failing health as the reason for his action, but 
the facts were that the younger element in the 
church had risen in rebellion against the elder- 
ly preacher, and cried out lustily for a different 
kind of pabulum from that which they had so 
long received. Judge Seabury saw at once 
that resistance would be useless, and he advised 
his cousin to withdraw, at the same time offer- 
ing his bachelor relative a home with him, and 
a good salary as private tutor for his son 
Ralph. 

For five years Phoebe Dow watched and 
waited for her son’s return, but in vain. Not 
a night passed without her placing a lighted 
lamp in the window which overlooked the sea, 
that its beams might guide the wanderer home, 
should he chance that way again. 

One night as Mrs. Dow went to the window 
to perform her nightly task, she noticed that 
the sky looked very threatening, and dark 
masses of clouds had gathered directly over 
head. For some days the peculiar moan of the 
waves had warned the fishermen that a storm 


43 


The Shipwreck. 

was brewing, and many of them had staid at 
home to mend nets, instead of going out in 
their fishing smacks. 

“There will be a north-easter before morn- 
ing,” said Mrs. Dow, half aloud, as she watch- 
ed the clouds with anxious eye. Her fears 
were realized. Before the morning came, the 
storm burst over the New England coast with 
terrific fury. The lightning flashed and the 
thunder rolled. The wind howled and shriek- 
ed, and the roar of the surf was deafening. It 
was a frightful blending of the elements, cal- 
culated to inspire fear in the hearts of the 
bravest. 

The fishermen at the Cove were on the 
alert in storms, to give assistance to any luck- 
less mariner who might need it. Tom Kinnion 
always made it a point in bad weather to hang 
two lanterns outside his door, and his example 
had stimulated the others to do likewise ; so 
on a stormy night the Cove was ablate with 
light. 

“ It may be foolish,” said Tom to his wife, 
“ to make sech a stir every time the wind 
blows, but then, if it is the means of savin’ one 
life, it will pay us well fur our trouble,” 

“Ye’ve said the right thing, lad. ’Tis only 
a-doing what I should want done by ye ef ye 


44 Slaying the Dragon. 

were out in sech a gale. Ugh ! how the wind 
howls.” 

Tom started to his feet, and opening the 
door, listened intently a moment. 

“What is it, lad ? ” said Janet. 

“ I thought ’twas the signal from some ves- 
sel, but guess I was wrong, as it don’t sound 
again. P’raps ’twas the rumbling of the heavy 
surf.” 

“ Like enough that’s all, so come in and shut 
the door. Ye don’t hanker to leave our snug 
nest to-night, do ye, lad ? ” 

“ Not much, my lass,” replied Tom, casting 
an appreciative glance around his comfortable 
quarters. 

It was a comfortable room on this or any 
other night. A roaring fire crackled and snap- 
ped in the open fire-place. A large iron tea- 
kettle was suspended over the blaze, and had 
already begun to sing, the monotonous hum 
of the heated water, forming an accompaniment 
to the noisy fire. A large tabby cat alternate- 
ly nodded and blinked her approval. The little 
clock on the mantel ticked tirelessly on. The 
tin dishes on the settle shone like silver in the 
firelight. Two pairs of shoes stood in one cor- 
ner, and on a nail by the door were two wool- 
en dresses, the property of Amy and Margie, 


45 


The Shipwreck. 

Tom’s little girls. Near Mrs. Kinmon was a 
trundle bed, in which Robbie was quietly sleep- 
ing. It is no wonder that Tom’s eyes finally 
rested with great content on his buxom wife, 
who kept everything so neat and thrifty. 

“ I tell ye what ’tis, Janet, ’taint every man 
that’s got sech a wife as I have. I should hev 
gone to the dogs long ago ef ye hadn’t a 
coaxed me with yer taffy and made things 
pleasant fur me at home. Why I tell ye, wife, 
there aint a room in the Maypole which be- 
gins to look as comfortable and cheery as this 
one.” 

“ O go way Tom with yer flattery,” said Janet, 
in a pleased tone, her cheeks flushing like a 
young girl’s at this praise. 

“But it’s all true,” persisted Tom. “ And it 
wont hurt ye to hear a bit o’ praise now an’ 
then. Ye’re a modest bit, and never think ye 
do anythin’ worth the tellin’. But look here, 
Janet, where was Tom Kinmon ten year ago this 
very night ? A spendin’ his earnin’s in the 
Maypole tavern and leavin’ his wife and child- 
ren alone in this wild place half the night. I 
was agoin’ to the dogs as fast as a man could, 
but ye saved me with yer pleadin’s fur the boy. 
Ye told me that my boy would be ruined, as 
Rast Dow’s Jamie was, ef I didn’t stop drink- 


46 Slaying the Dragon. 

in’. Ye told me what I hed never thought on 
before, that a love of grog runs in the blood, 
and helpless babies are cursed at the beginnin’ 
of their lives. But thank the Lord, and you, 
my lass, Tom Kinmon swore off from drinkin’ 
when he see how ’twas all a-comin’ out. Poor 
Rast ! What a terrible end befell him. I 
shall never forget watching by his bedside the 
last night of his life, as he was strugglin’ with 
the tremens. He fancied that a dragon was 
a-comin’ toward him, and a-takin’ him in its 
clutches, and his shrieks for help were pitiful to 
hear.” 

“ Hist, Tom, or ye’ll wake Robbie,” said 
Janet, as the occupant of the trundle bed stir- 
red. 

At this injunction Tom bent forward, and 
peered anxiously into the little bed, where his 
only boy lay sleeping. A look of pride min- 
gled with tenderness came over his face, mak- 
ing the rugged features fairly beautiful. This 
boy, so like his mother, was the pride of Tom’s 
heart. Two little lads who had been the idols 
of this father’s heart had died while young. It 
was no wonder that many an anxious look was 
bestowed on the young heir. 

“ Ef any harm should come to Rob,” whisper- 
ed Tom. The coat sleeve was drawn hastily 


47 


The Shipwreck. 

across his eyes, then he straightened himself as 
though ashamed of any manifestation of weak- 
ness. 

At this moment a sound was heard, the 
meaning of which could not be mistaken. It 
was the firing of a gun from a ship in distress. 
Again the sound reached them with great dis- 
tinctness. 

“ A vessel has struck the reef. I’m a-think- 
in’,” said Tom, preparing himself for the storm. 
Janet followed him to the door, and stood 
looking out into the darkness. 

“ Go back into the house, lass, and keep a 
good fire and plenty of hot water. We may 
hev to give shelter to some of these poor cree- 
turs, who are now perishin’ in the water.” 

Tom strode hastily away and was joined by 
a party of his neighbors. The darkness was 
so intense, that it was with difficulty the posi- 
tion of the distressed vessel could be deter- 
mined. That she had struck the reef was cer- 
tain, and that not far away, for the cries of the 
unfortunate crew were borne to the ears of 
the listeners. 

“ What shall we do, boys ? ” said Tom, as 
they all stood aghast before the roaring, seeth- 
ing mass of waters, on which it was folly to 
launch a row-boat. 


48 


Slaying the Dragon. 

“ We can’t do nothin’ but wait fur daylight,” 
said an old sailor. “’Twould be throwin’ our 
lives away fur no good, ef we should start out 
now.” 

The fishermen agreed that this was the part 
of wisdom. But what a long night it was ! 
They knew that human beings were perishing 
in the angry waves, but they were powerless to 
rescue them. They could only wait as best 
they could for the daylight. 

Oh, how often along life’s road we wait 
wearily, anxiously for the daylight to come ! 
The waters of some great woe, brackish with 
the salt of human tears, surge around us, and 
we are powerless to stay the raging flood. We 
can only wait till the “ Peace be still ” from the 
Master calms the tumultuous sea. So it shall 
be that. 


‘ ^ By ways we have not known, 

God leads his own/' 

The first streak of day found the brave fish- 
ermen manning a boat in which to put out to 
the wrecked vessel. They shoved the boat 
over the sand to the water’s edge, and then 
lifted it into the surf as far as they could. They 
watched the great waves rolling toward them, 
and when one came which seemed as though 


49 


The Shipwreck. 

it might launch the boat, eight of them sprang 
in and plied the oars vigorously. They suc- 
ceeded in getting the boat clear of the beach at 
their first attempt, and soon were rowing to- 
ward the scene of distress. A bend in the 
channel brought them out into the open sea, 
and then a pitiful sight met their eyes. Their 
worst fears were realized. The ship had struck 
on the rocks and had sunk till her decks were 
under water, and nothing but the masts were 
visible. Those of the crew who had survived 
the exposure of the long night, were seen cling- 
ing to the rigging for dear life. Others, fear- 
ing that they should be washed away by the 
waves, had lashed themselves to broken spars 
and pieces of driftwood, and were struggling in 
the water. The captain and part of his crew 
were rescued in Tom Kinmon’s boat, and the 
party started to row to the shore, when an ex- 
clamation of horror from one of the men caused 
the rowers to pause a moment. Floating be- 
side them were the bodies of a woman and 
child. They were immediately pulled into the 
boat, and the men rowed with all their might 
and main toward the shore, bearing their 
precious freight to a place of safety. 

4 


All my ships are out at sea ; 

And the harbors empty lie, 

Desolate beneath the eye, 

While the waves so fresh and free 
Toss my ships upon the sea. 

And I know not which are lost. 

Buried deeply in the sand ; 

Neither know I which will land, 

Worn and altered, tempest-tossed — 
Mine — though dear has been the cost. 

So I knew that I must wait 
Humbly still and patiently, 

For my ships to come from sea, 

One by one, or soon, or late. 

Sailing through the Golden Gate. 

M. W. McLain. 


(50) 


CHAPTER V. 

A LITTLE WAIF. 

The sea is mighty, but a mightiee sways his 
EESTLESS WAVES. — William Cullen Bryant. 

“ Ah, there’s Phoebe ! ” cried Tom, looking 
to the beach, on which the bold outline of one 
woman was visible. “ Every thin’ will be 
ready fur us when we git thare ef she’s the 
boss. Beats all how that woman keeps up 
her spunk and works fur ithers.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir, yer right ! ” said an old salt by 
his side. “ There’s only one Phoebe Dow in 
Fairport-by-the-Sea, and she’s wuth her weight 
in gold.” 

Yes, Phoebe was on the beach that dark, 
stormy morning, anxious to render what service 
she could. All through the night she had 
heard the howling of the tempest and the roar 
of the heaving billows as tliey dashed against 
the rocks. Her thoughts and her prayers 
went forth to the sailor lad of whom she had 
heard nothing since that terrible night five 

( 51 ) 


52 


Slaying the Dragon. 

years ago. Oh, pity the fisherman’s wife, ye 
who are reared in the lap of luxury ! God 
alone knows what an anxious life she leads. 

At last Phoebe arose and went out upon the 
beach. The sound of a gun attracted her at- 
tention and told her that a ship was in distress. 
She was not the only one on the beach. 
Several young men were standing about, and 
among the number was one who was evidently 
the worse off for liquor. Phoebe listened for 
a moment to his coarse jests and oaths, then 
stepping to his side, she said: “You had bet- 
ter stop your cursing, and pray for those poor 
fellows. It would seem far more fitting.” 

The young man looked up insolently at the 
speaker. Meeting a pair of keen black eyes, 
and recognizing the commanding presence of 
the woman with the white hair, as Mrs. Dow 
was familiarly calleJ, he made no reply. 

“Young man,” pursued Phoebe, laying her 
hand kindly upon his shoulder, “you are a stran- 
ger to me, but I s<urmise you are no stranger to 
the Maypole tavern. If you were sober you 
would not be cursing the only One who can 
save that frail craft yonder. Be warned in 
time. The dragon has you in his clutches. 
Turn about face and slay him, or he will slay 
you. I know all about him. Look at my 


A Little IVaif. 53 

white hair ! It would be raven black now had 
it not been for the dragon’s curse.” 

The young man turned away with a shame- 
faced look. It v/as seldom that any one took 
offence at Phoebe’s words, for her manner was 
calculated to disarm one. The news of the 
shipwreck had spread like wild fire through 
the little village of Fairport-by-the-Sea, and a 
crowd of men and boys had collected on the 
beach, some prompted by curiosity or a love 
of excitement, and some eager to help the 
brave men who had ventured on the rough sea, 
at the peril of their lives. Foremost in the 
latter class, was Arnold Strong, the village 
clergyman. He had been settled in Fairport 
only three months, yet in that time he had 
made many warm friends. An earnest, conse- 
crated Christian is a tower of strength in any 
community. Arnold Strong was of this type. 
He was a man of strong convictions, and he 
also had the courage of his convictions. Posi- 
tive, vigorous, yet withal charitable and sym- 
pathetic, he was a born leader. At this mo- 
ment his voice was heard above the tumult of 
the waves, giving directions for helping the ^- 
proaching boat to effect a landing. Under his 
leadership, the boat with the rescuers and the 
rescued was pulled high on the beach. 


{;^4 Staying the Dragon. 

“ Thank' God . ” he exclaimed, lifting his hat 
everently. As he stood there, the wind toss- 
ing the dark hair from the noble forehead, his 
form towering above his fellows, he looked the 
picture of manly strength and vigor. The 
crowd felt instinctively the superiority of the 
man, and for a moment were awed in silence. 
Curiosity soon got the better of most of them, 
however, and they surrounded the captain and 
his crew, and began to ply them with ques- 
tions. 

“Stand off, ye heathin ! ” said Kinmon. 
“Give the poor fellers a chance to get rested. 
Taint likely they want to talk on an empty 
stomach. The parson says he’s goin’ to take 
the Cap’n down to his house, an’ jest ye spruce 
up an’ divide the crew amongst ye, an’ treat 
them handsomely. As fur me an’ Phoebe, 
we’ve got these two to care fur,” pointing to 
the still figure which was muffled in a fisher- 
man’s coat. “ ’Tis a poor drownded woman 
an’ her little un,” said Tom, answering the in- 
quiring look of the gaping crowd. “ Both dead. 
I’m thinkin’. Help me, some of ye, to carry 
them to my house. There may be life yet.” 

The little procession moved slowly along the 
shore to the fisherman’s cottage, where Janet 
was anxiously awaiting them. 


A Little Waif. 55 

“ What have ye here, Tom ? ” she cried, hold- 
ing up her hands in horror. 

“ ’Tis a poor drownded woman and her child. 
Both dead. I’m thinkin’. But we’ll do all we can 
fur them, before we give them up fur gone.” 

They laid the woman and child on the bed, 
and commenced rubbing and chafing the cold 
bodies. While they were engaged in this 
work. Dr. Slociam came in to examine the pa- 
tients. 

“You are doing all right; all right!” he 
said to the women, “No hot water or flan- 
nels about. Just right I Good common sense 
shown. These things will be needed later, but 
not now. Stand aside, Tom, and allow the 
currents of air to circulate freely over the 
bodies. A pair of bellows, if you please^ Mrs. 
Kinmon, Artificial respiration often proves 
beneficial,” 

As he turned the body of the woman to one 
side, he gave a short, sharp whistle. 

“ What is it } ” said Phoebe, coming to him. 

He pushed the hair from the left temple, and 
pointed to a dark spot. “ She struck her tem- 
ple against some hard substance, and was 
killed instantly. This discoloration proves 
the fact beyond a doubt. You say the body 
was lashed to a spar, Tom ? ” 


56 Slaying the Dragon. 

“ Yes, and the Cap’n said she hadn’t been 
in the water more’n a minute, and hed floated 
at that. So she couldn’t hev been drownded, 
no way.” 

They ceased working upon the body of the 
woman, and turned their attention to the child, 
which Phoebe was rubbing vigorously. 

“ God be praised, its heart flutters ! ” cried 
she. A few moments after, the little chest be- 
gan to heave, and the breathing soon became 
natural. The doctor went to his medicine 
chest and took out a flask. Pouring a few 
drops into a spoon, he came to the baby’s side. 
The odor reached Phoebe’s nostrils. 

‘ ‘ What have you here, Doctor Slocum ? ” 
and the black eyes began to show fire. 

“ Don’t be alarmed, madam. It’s only a 
small dose of brandy to hasten matters a 
little.” 

“Is this dose essential to the child’s recov- 
ery ? ” 

“ I can’t quite say that, but it will save you 
an hour’s rubbing, certain sure. At any rate, 
it won’t hurt the child,” and with this he at- 
tempted to administer the medicine. Phoebe 
was too quick for him. 

“ It shall not be,” she said, as she turned the 
spoon away with such suddenness as to spill 


57 


A Little Waif. 

the contents, “ I will labor a day over this 
helpless babe, if need be, but not a drop of the 
dragon’s poison shall pass those innocent lips, 
when, as you admit, it is unnecessary.” 

The doctor’s anger was roused immediately. 
“ Fanatic ! ” he muttered, as he closed his chest, 
and seized his hat. “Take the case in your 
own hands, Madam. It is very evident that 
you think you are more competent than the 
profe.ssion,” and with these words, he left, 

“ Good fur ye, Phoebe,” said Tom. “ You’ve 
got spunk enough to stand by yer notions. 
’Taint right to dose people with alcohol when 
they’re sick, jest because ’twill hurry matters a 
leetle. Yet it’s done lots of times. Seems to 
me, doctors hev got a good deal to answer fur, 
some time. How do they know how many 
appetites fur drink they hev helped to form ? 
Many a man has tried to stop off drinkin’, an’ 
has hed his cravin’ fur it come on by takin’ 
some bitters that the doctor has ordered fur 
his tonin’ up. Why, really, Phoebe, I hed as 
soon see the undertaker a-comin’, as Dr. Slo- 
cum. He lies helped many a man down to a 
drunkard’s grave, by his doses.” 

“ We need a temperance doctor in this 
place,” said Phoebe. “ I hope I shall live to 
see the day when the dragon will not have so 


58 Slaying the Dragon. 

many apprentices in Fairport as he now has.” 

“Amen,” uttered a deep voice beside them. 

“ Why, how ye scared us,” cried Janet, 
springing from her seat. Take a chair, Mr. 
Strong. We’re real glad to see ye.” 

“That’s so,” said Tom, grasping the minis- 
ter’s hand. 

“ My friends, I did not intend to play eaves- 
dropper, but I entered just in time to catch a 
single sentence. Mrs. Dow, I heartily endorse 
your sentiment, and with God’s help the next 
five years shall make a difference in the condi- 
tion of things in Fairport. We temperance 
people must unite o\ir energies and deal strong 
blows against this hydra-headed monster of 
intemperance. I stand on the total abstinence 
platform. But I came to inquire after your 
patients.” 

“The boy is doing nicely,” replied Phoebe. 
“ He seems to be sleeping naturally now. If 
nothing new, sets in he will be all right in a 
few days. The mother is dead. Is she not a 
handsome woman ? ” turning back the sheet 
from the dead body. 

Arnold Strong gazed long and earnestly at 
the small oval face and beautifully chiselled 
features of the stranger. 

“ She looks very young. I should hardly 


A Little Waif. 


59 


call her over eighteen. She must be of French 
descent. Poor thing ! I wish we, could know 
something of her history.” 

“ What did the Cap’n say of her ? ” asked 
Tom. 

“ He knows scarcely anything. He tells me 
that he sailed from Havre with a cargo of fruit 
and merchandise, and just before he sailed, this 
woman begged to be allowed to accompany 
them, as she was very anxious to come to Amer- 
ica. The captain told her at first that it would 
be impossible, but she begged so hard, and said 
the case was so urgent, that he finally consent- 
ed. There was only one other woman on 
board, a colored cook. The woman seemed 
shy and reticent through the entire voyage, 
and said but little about herself. She did not 
even tell her name, but requested the crew to 
call her Madam. She talked a good deal 
with her child, and seemed passionately foifd 
of it. Spoke often to it of its grandma, whom 
it was to visit in America. This is all the 
Captain was able to learn about the poor 
woman.” • 

“Were there no papers about her peirson or 
the boy’s, which will throw light ou .the' mat- 
ter ? ” . : 

I “ Nothin’ at all, sir,” replied Janet., . “.We 


6o 


Slaying the Dragon. 

hunted fur them, but none were to be found. 
Some of the child’s clothes are marked, 
‘ Maurice,’ and on one piece are the letters, 
‘ M. T. D.’ That’s all we’ve been able to 
find.” 

“ I’m afraid the rnatter will always remain a 
mystery,” said the minister. 

“ If that is so,” exclaimed Phoebe, “ and no 
one comes to claim the helpless lamb yonder, 
I will take the child to my desolate home and 
will care for him as though he were my own. 
God helping me I will keep the lad from the 
power of the cruel dragon. My heart goes 
out to the little motherless waif. I fought one 
battle for him against the tempter this morn- 
ing,” narrating the encounter with Doctor 
Slocum. 

Mr. Strong was indignant at learning the 
evil influence which this physician exerted in 
Fairport. 

“ Parson,” said Tom, drawing his chair a 
little nearer, “ I should jest like to ask ye one 
question.” 

“ Ask as many questions as you please, Tom, 
but I’ll not promise to answer them.” 

“Wal now, Parson, why is it that the Lord 
’lows these wicked folks to prosper ? I’ve been 
a-watchin’ this thing in Fairport, fur a good 


A Little Waif. 6i 

many years, an’ I’ve ’bout come to the conclu- 
sion that the Lord don’t pay much attention to 
what’s a-bern’ done here, at least. No offence 
to you. Parson. I aint nothin’ of a Christian-, 
an’ haint made no perfessions, so it gives me 
sort of a right to speak out more freely. I 
might stand a chance to git converted ef a few 
of these things were cleared up, an’ I could git 
out of the fog a leetle. Now take the tavern 
keeper. Chase. Aint a man in Fairport who 
carries his head so high, an’ is made so much 
on. Folks like me is snuffed at by the bigbugs 
of this town, as bein’ sort of low down, jest be- 
cause we deal in fish. I’ve never, to my knowl- 
edge, hurt my neighbor or cheated him of any 
of his rights, but Jim Chase lies as good as 
killed hundreds. That’s the difference ’tween us. 
Now, if a temperance doctor should come into 
this place, unless he hed a fortin to live bn, he 
would starve. Only a few would hev him 
around. A good many of your church mem- 
bers wouldn’t care to give up Doctor Slocum’s 
sarvices. They like his doses too well. An’ 
so everythin’ seems kind o’ mixed in my mind. 
The Lord’s so still, the fear creeps into my 
heart that He’s forgetful of us. An’ some of 
those who call theirselves Christians, don’t seem 
to be much improved by their perfessions. I’m 


62 Slaying the Dragon. 

clean lost in the fog 'bout it all;" and Tom 
rubbed his head dubiously. 

“Tom, my man, you hev asked a common 
question. The wicked do seem to prosper. 
But wait ! the end is not yet. If their reward 
does not come to them in the shape of lashings 
of conscience, and in a gnawing remorse, I am 
much mistaken. They are daily losing char- 
acter and soul wealth. The great day of reck- 
oning is beyond. Rest assured. He that keep- 
eth Israel slumbers not, nor sleeps. His eye 
notices even the sparrow's fall. The book of 
remembrance is kept posted. No accounts 
slip the notice of the recording angel. As to 
Christian people, Tom, they are very imperfect. 
When you see one dealing unjustly, or yielding 
to temptation, remember that it is because he 
hasn't enough of the spirit of Christ. He is 
not imitating Christ." 

“ I like yer words, Parson," said Tom. 
“ They’ve got the right ring to 'em. I mean 
to hev some more talks with ye. Ye see, par- 
son,” placing his brawny hand in that of the 
minister, “ I kinder want to bring my Rob* up 
to be a square sort of a man, and I don't want 
him to say to me, ‘Why don't you do what 
ye’re a-tellin' me to, dad ? ' " 

“Then you must be a Christian, Tom, for a 


A Little Vt^aif. 63 

Christian is the highest type of manhood or 
womanhood.” 

Phoebe came out at this moment, leading 
the child, who was wrapped carefully in a shawl. 
“ I feel that God has sent this little waif to 
me,” .she said. “My lonely home will seem 
less lonely with this young life to care for. God 
has not forgotten me, and He never will, I be- 
lieve.” 

“ There goes a Christian, ef ever thare was 
one,” said Tom, as Phoebe walked away. 
“ Beats all how her religion stands by her 
through thick an’ thin. Thar’s a mighty differ- 
ence in perfessors. Parson, a mighty difference. 
Should think tbe Lord wud be hard up to know 
jest how to sep’rate the sheep. from the ^goats.” 

“ Well, Tom,” laughed the minister, “you 
must make sure that a certain fisherman at the 
Cove is a staunch Christian man, and then we 
shall be ready to talk over religious matters to 
better advantage. But I shall have to leave 
you, now. The little wife will be waiting tea 
for me. Good-night ! ” 


“ Walk 

Boldly and wisely in that light thou hast : 
There is a hand above will help thee on.” 

Bailey’s Festus. 

Honor and shame from no condition rise : 
Act well thy part, — there all the honor lies.” 

Pope. 


( 64 ) 


CHAPTER VI. 


ARNOLD STRONG MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

A MORE UNEQUAL MATCH CAN HARDLY BE: 

Christian must fight an angel ; but you see 
The Valiant Man by handling Sword and Shield; 
Doth make him, tho’ a dragon, quit the field. 

Pilgrim’s Progress. 

The young minister walked thoughtfully 
home from the fisherman’s cottage. The sun 
was shining bright in a cloudless sky. Its rays 
gilded now the weather cock on the church 
spire, and now the painted sign above the 
Maypole, ever and anon filling the windows of 
mansion and cottage with a blaze of light. 
Only the tossing and foaming of the waves 
were left to remind one of the terrible storm. 
The young man had no eye for the beauty of 
the ocean or beach. His thoughts were busy 
with the strange events of the day, and espe- 
cially with the words of Tom Kinmon. 

“ I can’t believe that Tom is right,” he 
said, half aloud. “ The people will support 

5 ( 65 ) 


66 Slaying the Dragon. 

temperance principles^ when they see the 
folly of tlie opposite course. They have been 
trying a license law for many years. Surely 
the effects of this pernicious system are al- 
ready visible. Phoebe said that Fairport had 
changed incredibly since she came here. Many 
young men who then would have been ashamed 
to be seen entering the Maypole, now walk 
into the tavern in broad daylight, with no feel- 
ings of shame. It is dreadful ! A public senti- 
ment must be created. I hardly think Tom 
was right, either, when he insinuated that the 
church would not endorse a thorough temper- 
ance movement. There may be individuals 
who will oppose it, but the church as a body 
politic must, if it be built on the Rock of Ages, 
advance upon every social and moral evil, and 
crush it out.” 

A sudden creaking in the sand, caused Mr. 
Strong to pause in his reverie, and glance 
around. He saw a man slinking behind the 
rocks, and endeavoring not to be seen. The 
motions of the man were so peculiar, that he 
hastened his steps and came alongside of him. 

“ Why, MacDuff, is this you ? I could 
scarcely make you out. I had difficulty in de- 
termining whether it were a man or beast at a 
little distance. A terrible storm we’ve had.” 


A mold . Strong Makes a Discovery. 6 7 

. . A scowling face appeared above the rocks, 
a mingled expression of fear and dislike visible 
in every feature. In one hand he held a 
square package which he was endeavoring to 
hide under his Kersey jacket. 

“ Yaas, I reckon we hev. Whatd’yer want 
o’ me ? ” The appearance of the fisherman 
indicated that the presence of the minister was 
unwelcome. 

; “ Nothing, my friend, except to invite you to 
attend our church services and enlist with us 
in the temperance cause.” 

“ Humph ! ” was the only answer from 
MacDuff. Seeing that his presence was not 
wanted, Arnold Strong went on his way, 
mystified at the reception he had received. 
“ What have I done that this man should show 
such a positive aversion for me ? I fear all is 
not right. Why should he be trying to hide 
behind those rocks ? It looks like foul play. 
I like not the face or actions of the man. I 
must be on my guard. MacDuff is my ene- 
my.” 

Had the minister looked back he would 
have seen a clenched fist shaken at him men- 
acingly. The conclusion which he had just 
reached was correct. MacDuff was his ene- 
my. 


68 


Slaying the Dragon. 

As he passed the tavern the proprietor step- 
ped outside and saluted him. 

“ Mr. Strong, I am very glad to make your 
acquaintance, very glad. I am a regular at- 
tendant at your church, as you probably have 
noticed, and I enjoy your preaching very much, 
very much. Am afraid Fairport will not be 
able to keep such a growing young man long. 
Perhaps you can find a way to dispose of this,” 
slipping a twenty dollar bill into the minister’s 
hand. “ That Will buy the little wife som^e 
notion.” 

Mr. Strong crushed the bill in his hand. 
He read the character of the man before him, 
and surmised the motive which prompted the 
donation. It was a bribe. If he accepted it, 
he would thereby place himself under obliga- 
tion to this wicked man, to do nothing which 
would injure his business. Not for a moment 
would he entertain the thought. Looking the 
landlord full in the eye, he said, 

“Mr. Chase, I thank you for yoilr kindly in- 
terest in me and for this unexpected gift. But 
I think it wouM be well at the outset if we 
understood each other. I stand on a square 
temperance platform. Total abstinence is a 
part of my religion. For the supremacy of 
constitutional prohibition I shall work and 


Arnold Strong Makes a Discovery. 69 

pray. I feel an interest in you, Mr. Chase, 
and bear you none but kindly feelings, but I 
bate your business and pronounce it a curse to 
Fairport. Knowing now what my principles 
are, I hardly think you will care to bestow this 
money upon me. Still, if you will allow me I 
will use the same in alleviating the wants of a 
poor family, the father of whom squanders all 
his earnings in the Maypole. I wish you 
good-day, sir.” 

The landlord’s eyes blazed at the unexpect- 
ed turn of affairs, and biting his lips with cha- 
grin, he entered the tavern, muttering, “ Old 
fellow, you have flung down the gauntlet. It 
is well. I vow eternal war upon your temper- 
ance principles. We’ll see which is the strong- 
er, the parson with his cant, or the landlord 
with his old Bourbon.” With these words, he 
drained a glass with evident relish. 

“ Me taste,” said a little voice at his elbow. 
It was baby Chase who made the request, a 
chubby toddler scarcely out of his mother’s 
arm.s. A spoonful of the sweetened dregs was 
put into the child’s mouth, and the father 
laughed long and loud to see the little fellow 
smack his lips, and reach out his hands for the 
glass. 

“Joe knows what’s good, don’t he? He’s a 


yO ^ flaying 4be Dragon. - 

chip 0 f tlie old block. No more- mgWy that's 'a 
good boy. Too much will make him sick. Go 
now to your mother and let her clean you up." 

God pity the helpless babes who leave their 
mother's arms only to fall a prey to the dragon 
intemperance. How can they be rescued, 
when liands, even of parents, are reached forth 
to drag them down to perdition ! Yet it may 
be that they shall be plucked as brands from 
the burning. ^ 


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Oh, if religion were a diffusive, practical, every- 
day reality, there would be a marvellous change in 
the aspect of life, and the conditions of humanity 
around us. The great city, now so gross and pro- 
fane, would become as a vast cathedral, through 
whose stony aisles w^ould flow perpetual service; 
where labor w^ould discharge its daily offlces, and 
faith and patience keep their heavenw^ard look, and 
love present its offerings. Yea, the very roll of 
wheels through its streets would be a litany, and the 
sound of homev/ard feet the chant of its evening 
psalm. 

Chapin. 


( 72 ) 


CHAPTER VII. 


SOME OF THE DRAGON’s APPRENTICES. 

“ A DOTTBLE-MINDED MAN IS UNSTABLE IN ALL HIS 
■WAYS.” 

The parsonage was a large, old-fashioned 

house, standing a little off the main street, in 

what was commonly known as Parsonage 

Lane. The south windows looked out upon 

the bay. The view from these windows was 

very inspiring — part of the time. When the 

tide was out, Mrs. Strong used to assert that 

the channel was no better than a frog pond, 

with its green, slimy mud. Surely the flats 

were an objective feature from an artistic, if 

not a hygienic point of view. But none of the 

citizens of Fairport ever admitted that the flats 

were unhealthful. Old Doctor Slocum used to 

0 

contend that it was only once or twice a year, 
that there was any unpleasant odor arising from 
them. Mrs. Strong, who heard him make this 

assertion, felt like telling him that his olfactory 

( 73 > 


74 Slaying the Dragon. 

nerve was not in a good state of preservation, 
but feared this might offend the spicy Doctor. 

Mr. Strong’s study was a large, airy chamber, 
from the windows of which the best view of old 
ocean could be obtained. In the distance were 
the two light houses, known as Baker’s Lights. 
Beyond, and touching the horizon, was Low- 
ell’s Island, with its large hotel. Nearer, were 
Little and Big Ram, Howe, and Misery Islands. 
Each summer found the shore skirted with 
beautiful shade trees, clothed in living green. 
The North Shore, while sustaining its reputa- 
tion of being cold and disagreeable in the win- 
ter season, made up for all this, in the surpass- 
ing loveliness which came with the other sea- 
sons. But to return to the inmates of the par- 
sonage. 

“ Papa does not pay any attention to his lit- 
tle boy,” said Mrs. Strong, as she pinned the 
napkin about the chubby neck of their little 
Francis. “ We think he has forgotten that it 
is some one’s birthday. Papa’s man is three 
years old to-day ! ” 

“ No, father has not forgotten it,” said Mr. 
Strong, drawing a package from his overcoat 
pocket, and handing it to his baby. The young 
Frank was made happy with a tin horse and 
cart, and expressed his delight in a series of 


Sotne of the Dragons Apprentices. 75 

squeals, which his mother told him sounded 
like a pen full of little pigs. 

The sober look deepened on the minister’s 
face. 

“ What is the matter, Arnold ? ” anxiously 
inquired his wife. The events of the afternoon 
were then narrated. “Why didn’t you give Mr. 
Chase back his money ? I should think the 
bill would burn a hole through your wallet.” 

“Well, my dear, I thought that while I had 
the opportunity, I would help the man do a good 
deed. I guess this is the first money he has de- 
voted to charitable uses for a good many years. 
Twenty dollars will help poor Mrs. MacDuff 
for a good many weeks. Peter is a worthless 
fellow, and abuses his family shamefully. Har- 
riet, I feel very much troubled about the tem- 
perance work in this place. Fairport seems to 
have been leased to the dragon of intemper- 
ance. Something must be done, or the young 
people who are coming on, will be ruined.” 

Instinctively Mrs. Strong put her arm about 
her baby boy, as though to protect him from 
impending danger. The minister’s eyes follow- 
ed the movement. 

“Yes, a terrible danger threatens every 
home, and what if one of the victims should be 
our boy ? ” 


76 Slaying the Dragon. 

“ Oh Arnold,” said his wife with girlish im- 
petuosity, “don’t you wish you had taken the 
parish in Broadway, instead of this uncomfort- 
able little town ? I’m afraid I shall never get 
along amicably with Mr. Felton, He came 
here to call, to-day, while you were out, and he 
made himself very disagreeable, by giving me 
so much advice, and leaving a bushel basket 
full for you. He is so narrow.” 

“ Don’t be hasty, my dear, in forming your 
opinion of the former pastor, and of Fairport, 
God has called us here to do his work. If the 
field is hard, we must work the harder. If 
discouragements come, we must lean the 
more upon the arm which never faileth. You 
must help me, little one, and not allow me, 
after having put my hand to the plough, to 
look back. You must prove yourself here, as 
well as in the Seminary days, to be the minis- 
ter’s sunshine, for he needs comfort.” 

As they rose from the supper table, Mrs. 
Strong remarked, “ Don’t you want to run in 
and see Deacon Ray, a few minutes before 
your meeting ? I think he will give you just 
tlie advice you need, and he is such a good 
friend to us.” 

Fifteen minutes later found the minister in 
the worthy deacon’s parlor. 


Some of the Dragons Apprentices. 77 

“Don’t get discouraged, pastor,” said the 
good man. “ I know the field is a hard one 
to labor in, and public sentiment is against 
temperance work. But you will succeed if you 
will be content to work slowly. There are a 
few staunch temperance workers here whom we 
can count upon every time. I will stand by 
you in your work and give you all the help in 
my power. Keep up good courage.” 

Deacon Ray’s words fell soothingly upon Mr. 
Strong’s ears, and gave him fresh zeal for his 
work. How often we might lift up the hands 
of our minister, and cheer his discouraged soul, 
if we would but give him the words of sympa- 
thy and appreciation which are in our hearts. 
There would be fewer resignations in our coun- 
try parishes, and more successful pastorates. 
The work of the Lord would be more pros- 
perous, and the broken walls of Jerusalem 
would not be so long rebuilding. 

Eight o’clock brought a singular company 
of men to Mr. Strong’s parlor, to talk over the 
problem of intemperance and its remedy. 
Judge Seabury was the spokesman for the 
committee. Beside him sat Deacon Chapman, 
a thin man with withered skin, and sour ex- 
pression. He was often called the “ off horse,” 
because he was always on the contrary side, 


78 Slaying the Dragon. 

and was a proverbial grumbler. He was a sin- 
gular man to occupy the office of deacon. But 
the church was small, and the male members 
“few and far between,” so it occasionally hap- 
pened that the church offices were filled by 
men not the best qualified for these positions. 
The rest of the committee were Marcus Young, 
the apothecary, and Reuben Palmer, a cabi- 
net maker. 

Mr. Strong tried for some time to bring the 
topic of the evening before the committee, and 
to have the matter thoroughly discussed. But 
he found very soon that the theme was not a 
favorite one with these men. They showed 
an evident reluctance to talk. Finally he put 
the question, “ Well, gentlemen, what course 
do you advise in regard to this matter ? ” 

“ Really, Mr. Strong,” said the Judge, twirl- 
ing his cane through his white fingers, “ I think 
you have put the matter altogether too strong. 
You speak as though Fairport was a sink of 
iniquity, and this church was responsible for it. 
Really, my dear pastor, you have put the mat- 
ter too strong.” 

“ That’s so, that’s so ! ” ejaculated Reuben 
Palmer, slapping his knee for the sake of em- 
phasis. “ It’s too strong, too strong ! ” 

“You ain’t put the thing fairly, I don’t 


Some of the Dragon's Apprentices. 79 

think,” growled Deacon Chapman, the ever 
present scowl deepening on his brow and 
making him look quite savage. The apothe- 
cary nodded assent to all that was said, with a 
deprecating air, as much as to say, “ My dear 
sirs, I hope you all are right. I don’t Avish 
to oppose you in anything.” 

Mr. Strong’s face flushed at these remarks, 
but crushing back the reply which came to his 
lips, he said quietly, “ Gentlemen, do not mis- 
understand me. I am not charging the church 
with anything but indifference to this vital 
subject, and that charge is sadly true. We 
look out from our quiet retreat, and see 
men, women and children going down to per- 
di^-ion, and do not reach forth a hand to save 
them. I am sure that I have not put the case 
too strong. It is time that the church waked 
up to the fact that she has something to do in 
this warfare against the dragon, intemperance.” 

“My dear Mr. Strong,” replied the Judge, 
“ I think I now feel the force of your remarks. 
The church has not taken much interest in 
this topic, but it seemed the part of wisdom to 
let the matter rest. You know that our 
church is divided on this question, and there is 
a great difference of opinion amongst the 
members. Mr. Felton, our former pastor, 


So Slaying the Dragon. 

considered it the part of prudence to let the 
mooted subject alone and to preach the gospel. 
The people like to hear the gospel, and they 
hire a minister for that purpose. As for these 
social reforms, I am of the opinion that they 
are outside the province of the church. It 
does not belong to us to meddle with it, but is 
the business of the Reform Clubs, or the tem- 
perance associations.” 

“ But what are you going to do,” replied 
the minister, quickly, “ when God speaks to 
you as he did to the one of old, ‘ Where is 
Abel thy brother ? ’ Shall you dare reply, ‘ Am* 
I my brother’s keeper ? ’ When God speaks 
to me and says, ‘ Where is my beautiful flock 
which I redeemed at such cost ? ’ shall I dare to 
face Him with the idle excuse, ‘ I did not think 
it my province to work for the wretched sot, 
I worked for respectable sinners.’ Christ died 
for the ungodly, not the righteous. He left 
the conceited Pharisees and went to bring his 
salvation to the outcast Gentiles. ‘The ser- 
vant should be as his Master, the disciple as 
his Lord.’ ” 

“Yes, yes,” said the Judge, moving uneasily 
in his chair, “ but you know there are the 
charitable organizations which the church must 
attend to, missionaries to be supported, Bibles 


Some of the Dragons A ppreritices. 8 1 


to be bought, and distributed among the needy 
of our own land, and Christian literature circu- 
lated. Surely the work of the church lies in 
these channels.” 

“ ‘ These ye ought to have done, but not to 
have left the other undone,’ are Christ’s words,” 
answered the minister. 

“ Wal, one thing’s certain,” said Deacon 
Chapman. “ This church wont put up with 
any new temperance notion's. There’ll be a 
fuss, sure’s ever we do anythin’. It can’t be 
done.” 

“ Your words are very true. Deacon,” said 
the Judge briskly. “ Our good pastor puts 
things forcibly, in his youthful enthusiasm. I 
admit the truth of his words, but as discretion 
is the better part of valor, I would move that 
we lay the matter on the table for the pre- 
sent.” 

“ That’s my mind exactly,” exclaimed the 
cabinet-maker. 

“ Second the motion,” muttered the Deacon, 
visibly brightening at the turn which the affairs 
had taken. The apothecary again nodded as- 
sent, but looked appealingly at the minister, 
as though he would apologize for going against 
him. 

“ I have just one favor to ask of the com- 


82 Slaying the Dragon, 

mittee,” said Mr. Strong, who saw at a glance 
that nothing was to be gained by farther dis- 
cussion. “ I would like to hold a temperance 
service those months in which a fifth Sunday 
occurs. It can be held in the chapel, instead 
of the regular evening service. Those who 
are interested can come and those who are not 
can stay away.” 

“Very good idea,” said the Judge. “ I see 
no objection to j’^our plan.” A murmur of 
approval went around the circle, and the con- 
versation drifted into other channels. 

Ah, deluded committee of the church at 
Fairport! Your pastor has got the better of 
you, though you know it not. You are going 
away feeling that the temperance work has 
been retarded and your personal interests are 
not to be disturbed. If your eyes were open, 
yen' would see that the first blow in Fairport 
against the dragon of intemperance has been 
struck. The echo of this righteous hammer 
shall not cease to vibrate till the dragon lies 
trampled under foot, or is cast into the sea. 

With a heavy heart the pastor walked into . 
his study that night. The matter was clear to 
him. Judge Seabury and Mr Felton stood on 
the same platform, that of moderate drinking. 
The Judge had his wine cellar, and wines were 


Some of the Dragons Apprentices. 83 

upon his table daily. Deacon Chapman made 
cider, and supplied all the people at the Row. 
Of course he kept nothing but “ sweet cider.” 
Did you ever know any one who kept any- 
thing but sweet cider ? Marcus Young found 
an apothecary’s license a convenient as well 
as profitable thing to possess, while Reuben 
Palmer took a glass of old wine whenever he 
could get it. 

Such were the men whom the young pastor 
had to meet. Earnestly did he pray for 
strength to do his duty in the face of certain 
opposition. 

He then and there purposed to do all in his 
power to slay the dragon which had transform- 
ed this earthly paradise into a hell. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE judge’s son. 

The childhood shows the man, 

As MORNING SHOWS THE DAT. 

Milton. 

Quite late in life, Judge Seabury had mar- 
ried Lucy Felton, the only sister of the Rev. 
Phineas Felton. She was a gentle, loveable 
creature, whose one thought was how she 
might please her husband. The Judge loved 
her as much as he loved any human being, 
but his mind was engrossed in his business, 
and he paid very little attention to the woman 
who shared his home. Not that he neglected 
to provide for her comfort in every possible 
way. She was surrounded by servants who 
obeyed her slightest wish. No luxury within 
the bounds of reason was denied her. The 
Judge was a bountiful provider. 

But he starved the heart of his patient wife, 
literally starved it. She longed for a word 

of love or appreciation ; for the confidence of 
84 


85 


The Judge s Son. 

a husband’s heart, but she craved these in 
vain. Her friends thought her perfectly well 
and happy, because it was not her way to com- 
plain. Slowly but surely the iron entered in- 
to her soul. She was a being who could 
thrive only in an atmosphere of love. For six 
short years she was mistress of the Seabury 
mansion. Her death occurred soon after the 
birth of their son Ralph. 

Mrs. Seabury’s death made^but little change 
in the home. 

The only thing about which the Judge man- 
ifested interest was the accumulation of gold. 
True, for a moment he exhibited a touch of 
paternal pride when the old nurse brought his 
boy to him, and said, Your son is a Seabury, 
sir.” 

Five years Judge Seabury remained a wid- 
ower, then he accidentally met the charming 
daughter of Judge Archer of Salem, and his 
fate was sealed. Blindly infatuated with the 
proud, imperious creature, he pressed his suit 
with the ardor of youth. His advances were 
met graciously, and before many mo'nths he 
wedded the haughty Clara Archer, and took 
her to his home. 

After his mother’s death Ralph Seabury had 
been' left largely to the care of servants. He 


86 Slaying the Dragon. 

was a smart, active child, possessing many ex- 
cellent traits of character, but with a fiery tem- 
per which had gathered strength during five 
years of unrestraint. These injudicious ser- 
vants had filled the child’s head with stories 
concerning the step-mother who was coming; 
stories not at all complimentary to the new 
mistress. Ralph had never known a mother’s 
loving care, but Nurse Dennis had taken pains 
to make him acquainted with the large picture 
in the sitting-room, which the boy was taught 
to call “ mamma.” The child felt in a vague 
way that some one was coming into his home 
who intended to usurp his mother’s place, hence 
he prepared to resent the new arrival with all 
the strength of his impetuous nature. 

“ They shall not bring me a new mamma,” he 
cried. “ My mamma is there,” pointing to Mrs. 
Seabury’s picture. “ I wont have another one,” 
and Ralph stamped his foot in childish rage. 

The day Judge Seabury brought his new 
wife to Fairport, he left orders that his son 
should be dressed in his best clothes and await 
his father’s return in the library. Nurse Den- 
nis was also instructed to tell master Ralph 
that papa was going to bring a nice lady home 
with him whom master Ralph was expected to 
kiss. The little fellow understood what all 


The Judge's Son. 


87 


this meant, and when he was left by his nurse 
in the library, dressed like a young prince in 
his velvet suit, he ran to the cupboard where 
he kept his playthings, brought his riding 
whip, and hid it behind him. 

“ I won’t kiss her, no, I wont,” he cried. 
“ If she tries to make me. I’ll hit her with my 
whip.” 

He heard the carriage drive into the yard, 
but he would not go to the window to look 
out. Footsteps came up the stairs. The door 
opened, but the little fellow did not stir or lift 
his eyes from the floor. 

“ Ralph,” said the Judge in a pleasant tone, 
“ look at your pretty mamma ! ” 

The boy raised his eyes and saw an elegant 
looking lady, more beautiful than any one he 
had ever seen, clad in the richest of furs. But 
there was a cold glitter in the handsome black 
eyes, and a repellant air, which the child uncon- 
sciously felt. 

“This is your mamma,” repeated the Judge, 
putting out his hand to draw the ’boy to him. 
“ Come and kiss your beautiful mamma.” 

“ I wont,” was the unexpected reply. 

“ Why not, my son ? ” said the Judge, in an 
expostulating tone. 

“ ’Cause I don’t like her, and she aint my 


88 


Slaying the Dragon. 

mamma. Nursie is my mammy since my own 
went to heaven.” 

“Tut, tut, Ralph,” said the Judge, looking 
irritated. “ The child isn’t much to blame, 
Clara,” he whispered to his wife. “I have 
left him too much to the care of foolish ser- 
vants. He has the Seabury spirit in him, but 
it is high time it was subdued.” 

“Ralph,” with great sternness, “come here 
this instant and kiss this lady.” Mrs. Seabury 
put out her hand graciously. 

In the twinkling of an eye the riding whip 
came out from its hiding-place and was flour- 
ished triumphantly over the little fellow’s head. 

“ I’ll strike her if she kisses me !” he shouted, 
stamping his foot in anger. 

“ Mercy, what a disagreeable child ! ” said 
Mrs. Seabury, turning away. “I am not over 
fond of children any way, and your son, hus- 
band, is not a very lovable looking specimen 
of childhood just at this moment.” 

Judge Seabury ’s anger got the better of 
him, and seizing Ralph, he carried him scream- 
ing and kicking, to the nursery. 

“Young man, you stay there till you can 
learn manners. Not one bit of the wedding 
dinner shall you have, for your disgraceful con- 


The Judge's Son, 89 

duct to-day. I am ashamed of you for your 
rudeness.” 

After dark a little figure might have been 
seen stealing into the dining-room, purloining 
pieces of cake and drinking the sweetened 
dregs from the bottom of the wine glasses with 
evident relish. It was Ralph Seabury. Al- 
ready the child was an adept in the art of de- 
ception. Worse than this even, he had formed 
an appetite for liquor. 

The next day the Judge formed a plan by 
which his wife would be relieved of the care of 
Ralph. Mr. Felton had just resigned the pas- 
torate, and he was invited to come and live at 
the Seabury mansion and take the entire 
charge of Ralph. “ I want you to instruct and 
govern the boy,” said the Judge, “ and teach 
him above all things to make a good appear- 
ance in society. He is as rough and wild as a 
young Hottentot.” 

Mr. Felton was not loth to assume this 
charge. He loved Ralph for the sake of his 
dead sister, and he pitied the boy. He at once 
commenced upon his task as private tutor to 
his nephew. No one supposed that the ex- 
minister would prove an agreeable teacher to 
the boy, but strange to say, Ralph evinced 
great affection for his Uncle Phineas. The 


90 Slaying the Dragon. 

latter put aside his “ keep at your distance 
air,” and never appeared so much like a hu- 
man being as when with his nephew. His in- 
fluence over his charge was great. Ralph 
regarded his uncle as a paragon of excel- 
lence, and was desirous of imitating him in all 
things. 

One day as Mr. Felton sat sipping his after 
dinner glass of wine, Ralph came bounding in- 
to the room and stood by his uncle’s side, 
eagerly watching the contents of the tum- 
bler, which were fast disappearing. 

“What is it, my son ?” asked the minister. 

“ Please can’t I have a glass of wine, as you 
do, uncle ? ” 

“ Oh no, Ralph. Wine is for grown people, 
not for children. When you are a man you 
may have one glass a day. Just one glass, 
Ralph. That is the gentleman’s allowance.” 

“ No it aint,” cried the boy. “ Papa drinks 
two glasses a day, and sometimes more.” 

“ I guess not,” answered Mr. Felton, moving 
uneasily in his chair. 

“But I see him do it,” persisted the child, 
“ and I wish I was grown up so I could have 
a glass too. It smells awful good, uncle.” 

“ Look ! there’s Don chasing Dick across 


The Judges Son. 91 

the lawn/' said the minister, anxious to divert 
Ralph's attention from the subject in hand. 

The boy was always ready for a frolic with 
his dogs, and away he ran, leaving Uncle Phin- 
eas feeling strangely uncomfortable, although 
he could hardlv tell whv. 


Your hoards are great, your walls are strong. 
But God is just ; 

The gilded chambers built by wrong 
Invite the rust. 

What ! know ye not the gain of crime 
In dust and dro^s ? 

It ventures on the way of time, 

Foredoomed to loss ! 

Whittier. 


( 92 ) 


CHAPTER IX. 


AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSAL. 


’TiS TEUE, THAT WE AEE IN GREAT DANGER. ThE 
GREATER THEREFORE SHOULD OUR COURAGE BE. 

Shakespeare. 

Judge Seabury expected that when he al- 
lied himself with the proud Archer family, his 
happiness would be complete and contentment 
would fold her wings, and abide with him. 
The Judge had yet to learn that the one 
thing in this world which he never would over- 
take, even if he had wings, was content. She 
is an elusive personage, always flirting her 
seductive drapery just a little in advance of 
the seeker. 

Clara Archer was haughty, wilful and self- 
ish to the heart’s core. She married from 
expediency, not from love. A miserable home 
was the natural consequence. The Judge 
spent most of his time in his office, and left the 
household to run according to the dictum of 


94 


Slaying the Dragon. 

the mistress. Only in this way cou]d open 
warfare be avoided, and the Judge disliked 
“scenes,” as what man does not? 

One afternoon Mr. Felton came into the 
library to have a talk with the Judge about 
Ralph. 

"^The child needs a companion,” said the 
ex-minister. “ It is not a good plan to bring 
up children alone. Ralph does not take the 
interest in his studies that he would if there 
was some one sharing them. He is very 
backward, very ! ” and Mr. Felton shook his 
head dubiously. “ Now there’s the boy Mrs. 
Dow adopted. He’s not as old as Ralph, 
about five now, I should say. Probably Mrs. 
Dow would be delighted to have some one 
take the boy, as she is not in circumstances 
sufficient to warrant her assuming this extra 
burden for any length of time. What do you 
say to taking this boy and educating him with 
Ralph?” 

The Judge looked thoughtful, but made no 
reply. 

“ It would be a very benevolent thing to do, 
besides being an advantage to your son,” pur- 
sued the minister, touching his brother-in-law 
in his weak point. Nothing so pleased the 
Judge as to have people say, “ Oh, what a be- 


An Unexpected Proposal. 95 

nevolent man ! ” He prided himself on giving 
large sums to sundry charitable and philan- 
thropic objects, Mr. Felton had touched the 
right chord. 

“ Yes, yes, I think you’re right,” he said, 
“ I will go at once and see the woman. There 
is no doubt but what she will be glad to get 
rid of the boy. Am glad you spoke to me 
about it,” 

Many attempts had been made by Mr. 
Strong and others to find out the relatives 
of the little waif, buf in vain. The circum- 
stances of the shipwreck, and the recovery of 
the child were duly advertised, but no one ap- 
peared to claim kinship. As over a year 
had passed and no light was received on the 
subject, Phoebe became convinced that God 
had sent this child to be a son to her in the 
place of the one whom she mourned as lost. 
She took him into her heart with a tenderness 
which surprised herself, and gave the boy her 
name. Maurice Dow became, from this time, 
a settled fact in the community. 

Not long after taking the waif to her home, 
Phoebe made an unpleasant discovery. As 
she was coming from an adjoining wood lot 
with a large bundle of sticks on her arm, she 
saw Peter MacDuff a little way ahead, examin- 


g6 Slaying the Dragon. 

ing something which was hidden behind a 
large rock. Maurice was walking to meet his 
foster mother, when he came across Peter. 
With a child’s curiosity, he stopped to watch 
the man. MacDuff rose suddenly from his 
stooping posture, and meeting the innocent 
eyes of the child fixed on him wonderingly, 
he uttered a terrible oath, and lifted his hand 
as though he would strike the boy. 

“ Out o’ my sight, yer good fur nuthin brat ! 
What yer gapin’ at me fur ? ” 

The child uttered a frightened cry and ran 
to Phoebe. 

“ Be careful, MacDuff, how you frighten one 
of the Lord’s little ones,” said the woman 
sternly. “ It is evident you are drinking too 
much. Can you not learn a lesson from poor 
Rast’s death and shun the same fate? Take 
heed before it is too late, and the dragon has 
you so fast in his clutches that you cannot 
escape.” 

The surly fisherman cowered at these 
searching words and muttered a sort of an 
apology. There was something in his manner 
which mystified Phoebe. “ The man is going 
mad with drink,” she thought. “ But why 
should he dislike Maurice ? The child cer- 
tainly has done him no harm. His face re- 


An Unexpected Proposal. 97 

vealed a half terrified, half defiant look as he 
saw the lad. Singular ! Hereafter I must 
keep my eyes open.” 

The day was full of surprises. As Mrs. 
Dow sat knitting a sock for Maurice and plan- 
ning for his future, a shadow darkened her 
doorway, and looking up, she saw, to her great 
surprise. Judge Seabury. As it was the first 
time he had visited her humble cottage, it was 
no wonder that the widow was a trifle dis- 
turbed. 

“ Good afternoon, my good woman. Pray 
keep your sitting. No, I do not care for the 
rocker, I sit very comfortably by the door. 
Doubtless you are surprised at my call.” 

Phoebe nodded assent. 

“ Ahem ; well, my call is a trifle unusual, 
for with all my duties I have very little time for 
becoming acquainted with my workmen at the 
Cove.” He stopped, and then glanced about 
the room, as though in search of something. 

“ By the way, Mrs. Dow, where is the little 
waif who created such a sensation in these 
parts some months ago ? ” 

“ Maurice is out with Tom Kinmon’s girls. 
They came to take him to the beach. It is 
about time they were returning. There they 
come now.” 

7 


98 Slaying the Dragon. 

Over the hill and down the footpath which 
lay between the rocks came the children. 
Their shouts of merry laughter floated into the 
cottage, and caused a sigh to escape from 
Judge Seabury. “ How happy these simple- 
hearted fishermen are,” he thought. “They 
get more enjoyment out of life than I. What 
makes the difference ? ” 

Ah, my learned Judge, happiness is from 
within, not without. A conscience void of of- 
fence toward God will prove a source of peren- 
nial enjoyment to the possessor. 

The Kinmon girls shrank back as they 
caught a glimpse of Phoebe’s distinguished 
visitor, and ran away leaving the boy standing 
in the middle of the kitchen floor. He made 
a pretty picture as he stood there, in the un- 
conscious grace of childhood. His round, 
rosy face was lighted up by a pair of spark- 
ling black eyes. His dark curls were pushed 
away from a noble forehead, and his torn 
straw hat was dangling from one little brown 
hand. In the other were his shoes and stock- 
ings. Evidently he had been playing in the 
sand. 

“ Come here, my brave little man,” said the 
Judge, holding out his hand. The child look- 
ed earnestly at him a moment, and then ran to 


An Unexpected Proposal. 99 

Phoebe. A frown flitted across the gentle- 
man’s face. 

“ You must excuse the child’s actions, sir,” 
said the widow. “ Maurice was frightened 
only this morning by one of the fishermen. I 
expect it will make him shy of strangers for a 
long time. Come Maurice, go to the gentle- 
man.” But the little face was closely hidden 
in the folds of Phoebe’s dress, and no persua- 
sion could induce him to raise it. 

“ The object of my visit, Mrs Dow,” said the 
Judge, clearing his throat, “ was to tell you 
that I am seeking a companion for my son. 
Mr. Felton recommended your adopted child. 
I have come, therefore, to offer this waif a 
good home and superior advantages. I do 
not mean that I shall adopt Maurice, for his 
blood may be tainted, for all we know, and the 
name of Seabury cannot be linked with one of 
plebeian stock. I thought that as your circum- 
stances were not of the best, you would be glad 
to be relieved of your charge. How does the 
matter strike you ? ” 

Phoebe sat like one stunned. Then, as she 
realized what Judge Seabury had been saying, 
she groaned, and covered her face with her 
hands. 

“My good woman,” said the gentleman, “ I 


lOO Slaying the Dragon. 

perceive that my proposal comes unexpectedly, 
therefore I will not press you for an answer. 
Take plenty of time to consider the matter, and 
then let me know your decision.” 

The echo of retreating footsteps fell upon 
Phoebe’s ear, but she heeded them not. The 
little clock on the shelf ticked loudly, as it 
measured the fleeting moments, but the busy 
fingers for once were idly crossed upon her 
knee. Even the ceaseless prattle of Maurice 
fell upon deaf ears, for Phoebe was settling a 
question which touched the deepest springs of 
her nature. Should she relinquish the little 
orphan to the care of Judge Seabury? Did 
she not love the child better than life ? Had 
she not taken a mother’s place, and was he 
not her own? For a long time she battled 
with these selfish feelings ; then, with a prayer 
to God for help, she tried to look at the mat- 
ter impartially. What would the child gain by 
going to the Seabury mansion ? He would 
secure position, wealth, influential friends and 
superior educational advantages. He would 
undoubtedly be qualified to take a position in 
life which he might never attain if reared in 
humble circumstances. So much for this side 
of the question. But when the thought came 
to her that the Judge was a moderate drinker, 


-An Unexpected Proposal. loi 

and that wine was a daily visitor upon the ele- 
gant dining-table, she realized that the child 
had also much to lose by exchanging homes. 
He might lose his spotless character, his soul, 
eternal life. Could she give her consent to 
this flattering offer? No ! A thousand times, 
no ! She would work her fingers to the bone 
before she would see that innocent child thrust 
into the dragon’s clutches. 

The warm pressure of a child’s arms about 
her neck brought her thoughts to the present 
moment. Clasping the boy to her heart, she 
cried : 

“ They shall never take my precious lamb 
from me ! God has given him to me in trust, 
and he shall be trained to serve his Maker.” 

Although Phoebe had decided the question 
in her own mind, she wished the advice of 
some trusted friend. She sought the counsel 
of Pastor Strong, and a heavy load was lifted 
from her heart when he heartily approved her 
decision. 

“Judge Seabury’s home is a dangerous 
place to bring up a boy, and Mr. Felton is a 
dangerous teacher for a boy to imitate. If the 
avenues to sin are not closed to protect the 
Judge’s son, think you that the orphan child 
will fare any better ? Mr. Felton is a Chris- 


102 Slaying the Dragon. 

tian man, I sincerely believe, but on the tem- 
perance question he is terribly mistaken. We 
have had several hot discussions on the sub- 
ject, and I fear Mr. Felton thinks me obstinate 
because I will not let the mooted subject rest 
just where he does. I pray, Mrs. Dow, that 
you may say some word to the Judge and the 
minister which shall lead both to see their 
error in tolerating intemperance.” 

Phoebe left the parsonage with a light heart, 
conscious that she had the support of one for 
whom she entertained the most profound re- 
spect and reverence. She was ready to face 
the displeasure even of a judge or an ex-min- 
ister. 

Judge Seabury’s library was an inviting 
place to one who had been battling the storm 
of wind and rain. The heavy crimson cur- 
tains were drawn close about the windows and 
a bright fire glowed in the grate. That 
worthy gentleman was pacing back and forth, 
his head bowed upon his breast, apparently 
lost in deep thought. Near him sat Mr. 
Felton, writing letters. The Judge came for- 
ward graciously to meet Mrs. Dow, as she 
was ushered into his presence. Phoebe waited 
for no preliminary remarks, but came at once 
to business. 


An Unexpected Proposal. 103 

“I have come, Judge Seabury, to give 
you my decision in regard to relinquishing 
Maurice. After looking at the matter from all 
sides, arid giving it a prayerful consideration, 
it has seemed best for me to decline your kind 
offer. I have come to-night to give you my 
final answer.” 

“ Madam, your reasons,” said the Judge, 
icily. 

“In the first place, sir, I desire to have this 
child trained to be a staunch temperance man. 
In the second place, I love the child too well 
to give him away ; these are the main reasons 
3vhy I wish to retain the boy under my hum- 
ble roof.” 

The Judge rose in a towering passion. 

“ What do you mean to insinuate by your 
words, woman ? Am I not a temperance 
man i* Cannot I instil temperance principles 
into this child, I should like to know ? ” 

“ No, sir, not while you keep your wine- 
cellar. Having seen all that I have of intem- 
perance, I am convinced that nothing short of 
total abstinence will save the coming genera- 
tion. I dare not place this boy in your home, 
for fear he may become one of the dragon’s 
subjects.” 

“ Very complimentary, I must say,” sneered 


104 Slaying the Dragon. 

Mr. Felton, looking up from his sheet of paper. 

“ Pray, my good woman, to which of us does 
your remark refer ? ” 

Phoebe paid no attention to the interrup- 
tion. 

“This is an expression which I heard first 
from my mother’s lips, in reference to the 
terrible curse of intemperance. This great 
dragon walketh about our little town, seeking 
whom he may devour. My home is humble, 
and my means scanty, but this child will never 
see or taste any intoxicating liquors under my 
roof. God helping me, he shall learn to hate 
the accursed stuff, and be stimulated to laboF 
for those who have succumbed to the insidious 
enemy. I beg to be excused if I have offend- 
ed you. You know, full well, that I have good 
reason for feeling strongly on the subject.” 

“ I have no patience with you temperance 
fanatics,” replied the Judge, disregarding her. 
closing words. “You will put aside this 
child’s future prosperity, deprive him of supe- 
rior educational advantages, for the sake of a 
quibble on the temperance question. Bah ! I 
have no patience with such a procedure.” 

“You surely do not intend to decline this 
munificent offer?” said Mr. Felton, in his im- 
pressive way. 


An Unexpected ProposaL 105 

‘‘Most certainly I do/' replied Phoebe, 
without flinching. Then turning to Judge Sea- 
bury, she said : “ Sir, you are proud of the 
Seabury name, take care that your son does 
not disgrace that name by linking it with that 
of a drunkard. Banish your wine cellar. 
Remove temptation from before your family 
and before the young people of this place. 
Throw your great influence on the side of tem- 
perance. For God's sake, for your boy's sake, 
do this ! " 

Before the astonished man could reply, Mrs. 
Dow had faced the ex-minister. 

“ Reverend sir, may God forgive you for 
being a stumbling-block in the way of temper- 
ance progress in Fairport. May He convince 
you of your error one day — but oh, good sir, 
may you never suffer as I have." Phoebe 
paused, overcome by her emotions. 

“Woman," said the Judge, angrily, “do you 
dare to dictate what I shall or shall not do ? 
I do not know to what you refer by your insin- 
uations. You had better reserve such for the 
fishermen who make hogsheads of themselves 
and fill them with poor rum. This is the out- 
come of such fanatical nonsense as Parson 
Strong preaches. He has got to stop it, or he 
will be asked to send in his resignation. 


io6 Slaying the Dragon. 

When it gets to this, that one is insulted in 
his own house by a temperance bigot, it is 
time something was done. Don’t you agree 
with me, Phineas ? ” 

“ Most certainly I do,” replied Mr. Felton, a 
bright red spot glowing on either cheek. 
“ Strong is carrying this thing altogether too 
far. I have told him so repeatedly, but he is 
young and headstrong, and thinks the old 
pastor is terribly behind the times. For my 
part I am sick of the word ‘ Reform.’ These 
temperance fanatics are going from house to 
house, lighting their torches at every fireside.” 

“ Thank God ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Dow. 

“ Go,” cried Judge Seabury, to Phoebe, for- 
getting all courtesy in his anger. “ Go, keep 
the outcast child, if you will, but vacate the 
house you live in. I will have no tenant who 
dares thwart my will. Go, but beg a shelter 
at the house of the ranting minister who advo- 
cates your notions. Go, but never darken my 
doors again.” . 

Mrs. Dow was only too glad to leave the 
Seabury mansion. Filled with anxiety for 
her beloved pastor’s welfare, she stopped at 
the parsonage and told him what had been 
said. 

“You will work cautiously, -will you not? ” 


An Unexpected Proposal. 107 

she entreated. “ I fear these men will brew 
mischief in this place. They make excellent 
friends, but deadly enemies.” 

“ Do you remember the words which I quot- 
ed from the master-poet, only last Sunday ? ” 
he asked, with a slight smile. “ ’Tis true 
that we are in great danger. The greater 
therefore should our courage be. Be assured, 
Mrs. Dow, that I shall do nothing rashly, and 
many thanks for your timely warning. I will 
be on my guard.” 


I met the Saviour in the evening hours ; 

The sun was sinking in the quiet west ; 

His hands were filled with newly gathered flowers, 
With which His Father’s mansions should be 
dressed. 

I looked upon them with a strange surprise ; — 

He read the thoughts my looks alone expressed : 

‘ Master, are these indeed earth’s very best — 

Buds nipped and bitten rudely by the frost — 
Blossoms with petals tempest-torn and tost ? 

And surely Thou hast gathered them with cost ! ’ 
The Saviour spake with mercy in His eyes, — 

‘ I came to save the lost.’ 

The Son of Man hath healing for His art ; 

The withering buds men scornfully despise, 

God gathers up and freshens on His heart.” 

A. E. Hamilton. 


( 108 ) 


CHAPTER X. 


THE ST. GEORGE LEAGUE. 

Whoso aids a soreowiiig, steugglii^^o brother, 
By kindly word or deed or friendly token, 
Shall win the fayor of our Heavenly Father, 
Who judges evil and rewards the goodj 
And who hath linked the race of man together 
In one vast, universal brotherhood.^^ 

When Mrs. Dow vacated her cottage, Tom 
Kinmon generously opened his doors to her 
and Maurice. Judge Seabury's act in turning 
a poor widow out of doors for so trifling a 
cause was generally condemned. From this 
time the Judge grew sour and crusty. Find- 
ing that the young minister was growing in 
popularity, and that he could no longer rule 
the church, he ceased attending Sabbath ser- 
vices. Strange to say, the little church contin- 
ued to thrive, notwithstanding. 

Mr. Strong was a stirring man, and the next 
six years showed marked results in temperance 
work. The gospel temperance meetings which 

( 109 ) 


I lO 


Slaying the Dragon, 

had formerly been held only once in three 
months, were now held once a month, and were 
full of interest. A strong public sentiment in 
favor of temperance was created, and the 
power of the Maypole tavern was gradually 
declining. 

The young minister felt that the time had 
now come for organized work. Accordingly 
at the next temperance meeting he suggested 
the forming of a St. George League, the direct 
object of which should be the rescuing of 
young people and children from the dragon s 
power. In a few words the pastor told the 
thrilling legend, from which the name of the 
Society had been fitly taken. 

Across the sands of Egypt lay the city of 
On — a beautiful city — but visited by a terrible 
curse. 

* ‘ A ravening dragon with blood-shot eyes and a mouth that 
vomited flame, 

With gaping jaws and sharp-curved claws, from the slime of 
the river came. 

He raged and ravaged the growing crops, the barley, the 
lye, and the wheat, 

Tore the grazing kine, uprooted the vine, — for he spoiled 
what he could not eat. 

■ The people fled, destruction spread, the king, from his royal 
city. 

Sent nobles great, in splendor and state, to implore the 
dragon's pity, 


1 1 1 


The St, Geoi^ge League, 

And the way to show (if he would but go) to the lands of 
some other king, — 

To Goshen fair, or Nubia, where soft rains make the valleys 
sing. 

‘ Not so, my lords,' growled the dragon, ‘in these reeds I 
mean to abide ; 

I like my lair, and I like my fare, by your ancient river's 
side ; 

But if you will bring me a maiden each day — rosy, and ten- 
der, and good — 

And tie her fast where the lightning blast has stricken yon 
oak in the wood, 

I will take your maid, as tribute paid, and refrain from other 
spoil. 

And your land may be at peace for me, and your peasants 
resume their toil.^ 

So every day a virgin is torn from her mother’s embrace, 

Each noon, a fresh, fair victim they lead to the fatal 
place — 

Lead to the place and leave her to horrors that none may 
know. 

While the city's pent-up wrath bursts forth in bitter pleading 
and woe.' 

‘‘ Then up arose the king’s daughter, a Chris- 
tian maid, and offered to give her life, praying 
that the sacrifice of a princess might stay the 
wrath of the dragon. A knight, crossing the 
desert of Egypt, came to the dwelling of a 
hermit, and there learned the pitiful story of 
Sabra, the Christian maid, and how she was 
doomed to die. The knight was so moved by 
this sad story that he prepared serviceable 


1 1 2 Slaying the Drag-on. 

weapons and went bravely forth to the suburbs 
of the city to meet the monster. He slew the 
dragon, freed the city from the terrible curse, 
and carried the king’s daughter in safety to 
her father s palace. 

George became patron of England; the master of 
English knights, 

There the Queen bears his cross on her bosom, there brave 
men wear it in fights. 

No honor more great in that Christian State can be paid to 
a hero this day, 

Than to give him the right to the cross of the knight who 
did the dragon slay/ 

“ Fairport - by - the - Sea,” continued Mr, 
Strong, “ is that beautiful city of On, and like 
that heathen city, it is cursed by a dragon — the 
dragon intemperance. Mothers and fathers 
are weeping at the sacrifice of sons and daugh- 
ters, and still the terrible work goes on un- 
checked. Shall not brave knights arise who 
shall prove as valiant as St. George ? Shall 
not our country, our State, our town be deliv- 
ered from this terrible monster ? ” 

“Yes, yes ! ” came as by common impulse 
from his listeners, who had drank in every 
word which their pastor had spoken. 

Mr. Strong then unfolded in a definite man- 
ner his plan concerning the St. George 
League. 


The St. George League. 113 

‘‘ Such a society, to be successful, must have 
two things. 1st, Practical working methods: 
2d, Earnest, wide awake members. These 
combined with the grace of God cannot fail of 
results. I would like to invite all the members 
of this church who are willing to take some 
definite part in carrying on such a society to 
meet at the parsonage to-morrow evening, at 
which time we will discuss some working 
methods.'' 

The parsonage was thronged with church 
people, for be it known, the faithful labors of 
Arnold Strong all these years had not been 
fruitless. He had at last roused the church 
until it not only wanted to be told what to do, 
but it was ready for action. Mr. Strong was 
unanimously elected President of the new so- 
ciety, and Deacon Ray Vice-President. The 
methods for running such a society were then 
discussed. 

If we find out the causes which ruin our 
young people," said the pastor, ‘‘ we shall be 
better fitted to counteract the same. The first 
great cause of ruin is idleness. Our young 
people are not employed. They may be 
found in large numbers about the street cor- 
ners, receiving a street education, or loitering 
about the Maypole, as moths about the flame, 
8 


1 14 Slaying the Dragon. 

ready to be drawn in and consumed, body and 
soul. The second cause of ruin is a false 
home training. Fathers bring up their child- 
ren to believe that moderate drinking is per- 
fectly legitimate and harmless, and encourage 
their sons to pursue such a course by their own 
example. A third cause of ruin lies in the so- 
cial customs of our town. The fashion of 
treating people to cider or wine or beer, when 
they call, is pernicious. While that day of all 
the year. New Year’s day, which ought to 
mark a step toward God and heaven, has often 
proved the time when a soul has been drag- 
ged down to hell by the offer of the intoxicat- 
ing cup. The fourth cause of ruin is bad leg- 
islation. When the town votes for license, 
w'hat can we say to the young people ? If 
those in high places sanction such proceedings, 
what can we do who hold so small places ? 
But, thank God, the vote for ‘no license’ in 
this town is fast approaching the day when 
it shall be in the majority. To such a time, 
toward that glad day, Christian people, ‘ go 
forward ! ’ ” 

Several working plans were then discussed, 
and one finally adopted. A large vacant room 
was to be hired, which should be heated and 
lighted every evening in the week, and made 


II5 


The St. George League. 

attractive. The committees appointed, were, 
first, the Entertainment Committee, who were 
expected to provide some kind of an entertain- 
ment every Wednesday evening. Second, the 
Prayer Meeting Committee, whose business 
was to take charge of the Sunday evening 
meeting, and invite people to attend ; also to 
extend an invitation to all to attend the meet- 
ing at the church, which followed. Third, the 
Pledge Committee, who were to distribute 
pledges at suitable times. Fourth, the Visiting 
Committee. Each church member who was 
enrolled on the society lists was asked to be a 
member of this committee, visiting and invit- 
ing those who were not members of the St. 
George League to join the ranks and fight 
against the dragon intemperance. Fifth, the 
Welcome Committee. The business of this 
committee was to welcome new members, and 
to promote mutual acquaintance. Sixth, the 
Employment Committee, which furnished em- 
ployment, as far as was possible, to those who 
left their names. 

A reading-room was to be attached to the 
hall, free to the members of the society. 

The St. George League was not a reform 
club, as we know them, carried on outside of 
the church, and independent of the church. 


1 1 6 Slaying the Dragon. 

but it* was to be an auxiliary to the church, 
watched over and cared for as much as the 
Sunday-school. This working plan was unan- 
imously carried, and the various committees 
chosen. 

Deacon Chapman sat in the corner, with 
down-cast, scowling face. Well did he re- 
member that other committee, so long ago, 
when he, with three others, helped to put the 
young minister down, when he attempted a 
temperance reform. Now the minister was 
popular, and he stood with a rapidly decreas- 
ing minority. Furthermore the conduct of his 
two sons made it wise for him not to speak a 
word against the new plan. What the old 
deacon lacked, was more of the grace of God 
in his heart. He disliked his pastor without a 
just cause. To be sure, Mr. Strong had wait- 
ed on him and told him plainly that cider 
making and cider selling did not befit the 
office of a deacon. But Deacon Chapman 
knew this before, and his conscience had often 
reproved him for his course. Nevertheless, 
his pastor’s words, combined with the fear that 
he should lose the deaconship, induced him to 
give up his odious business, but he hated the 
minister for what he termed “a meddlin’ with 
what warn’t none of his business.” 


117 


The St. George League. 

Nor was Deacon Chapman the only one 
who felt himself abused. The apothecary had 
received an official notice from the church, 
saying that if he did not adhere strictly to an 
apothecary’s license, and cease selling liquor 
promiscuously, he would be disciplined. This 
action he laid to Mr. Strong, for he could 
easily recall the numberless times his pastor 
had labored with him to no purpose. Fear of 
losing more trade than he should gain, com- 
pelled him to accede to the wishes of the 
church. But Marcus Young loved not the 
minister. 

There was another man who could no 
longer brook the aggressive work of Mr. 
Strong, and that was Phineas Felton. The 
establishment of the St. George League was 
the climax to his pent-up wrath. He visited 
the young minister, and began to upbraid him 
in stern but dignified language. 

“ Is it true what I hear,” he said, “ that you, 
a minister of God, are about to institute a 
Society in Fairport called after a Roman 
Catholic ? ” 

“ I beg leave to differ,” said Mr. Strong, 
pleasantly; “called after a noble man, a Chris- 
tian, I sincerely believe.” 

Mr. Felton sneered contemptuously. “Your 


1 1 8 Slaying the Dragon. 

term Christian must be used in a very broad 
sense, if it takes in the heathen.” 

“ ‘ By their fruits ye shall know them. Do 
men gather grapes of thorns or figs of this- 
tles ?’ ” replied the young minister. 

Mr. Felton ignored these words. “Waiving 
this point, Mr. Strong, are you aware that your 
work is creating dissensions in the church ? 
If you continue in your course there will sure- 
ly be a division. I entreat you therefore, as 
one who loves this church, to desist. I say 
nothing about your undermining my twenty 
years of hard labor here ; humiliating as this is, 
I trust I am not selfish. But when it comes 
to breaking the church to pieces I feel it my 
duty as an older and more experienced minis- 
ter to warn you of your danger. Let the tem- 
perance issue rest awhile. Turn your youth- 
ful enthusiasm into another channel, that of 
converting souls. Surely there is no grander 
field of labor than this. How much pleasanter 
to the ears of angels and of Christian people 
the sound of redeemed souls singing the new 
song, than the crackling of the thorns of con- 
tention under the temperance pot ! ” 

“ How can you convert the drunkard unless 
he first abandons his cups ? quietly asked Mr. 
Strong. 


The St. George League. 119 

“ Preach the gospel from the pulpit,” said 
Mr. Felton. 

“ What if the drunkard is not at church to 
hear the gospel ? ” 

“ Visit him in his home and reason with 
him.” 

“What if he continues to do wrong after all 
this ? ” 

“Your responsibility ceases. If God has 
elected him to be saved, and to be saved 
through your agency, your w'ords will turn him 
from evil. Otherwise you have done your 
Avhole duty by the man.” 

Mr. Strong rose to his feet. “ Mr. Felton,” 
he said, “ I believe God has called me to Fair- 
port to do a special work. I was brought up in 
poverty and have been inured to hardship. It 
is natural therefore that my best sympathies 
should be with the working class. I can ap- 
preciate their toil. I know something of what 
they suffer, I have also known the ravages 
of intemperance in a home, dear to me by the 
ties of blood. I have seen the terrible power 
of the dragon. I felt called to the Christian 
ministry through my desire to make the church 
the friend and ally of all temperance move- 
ments and to save the drunkard. Feeling 
thus, shall I give up my post? Never ! The 


120 


Slaying the Dragon. 

excitement which prevails will soon pass away. 
It is only the foam on the wave — underneath 
the still waters flow unchecked. Believe me, 
Mr. Felton, when I say I have the best interests 
of the church at heart. It were far better for 
the church to go down than for it to rest on a 
rotten foundation.” 

“ You are all wrong, all wrong,” replied the 
ex-minister, with rising anger. 

“ Mr. Felton, it is useless for us to argue 
further. We stand on different platforms. 
We are constituted very differently and we can 
never think alike. Can we not agree to dif- 
fer and part friends ? ” and Mr. Strong held 
out his hand. 

“ I cannot be friends with one who follows 
the bent of his ambitions rather than the 
teachings of the Master,” replied the old min- 
ister, leaving the study. 



Perish policy and cunning, 

Perish all that fears the light ; 

Whether losing, whether winning, 

Trust in God and do the right. 

Some will hate thee, some will love thee. 
Some will flatter, some will slight ; 

Cease from man and look above thee. 

Trust in God and do the right. 

Norman MacLeod. 


( 122 ) 


CHAPTER XL 


THE DRAGON WORKS. 

They are wise to do evil j but to do good 

THEY HAVE HO KNOWLEDGE. 

It is a well-known fact that when Christian 
people work, the devil also works. The place 
of action at this time was the Seabury mansion, 
and the victim the Judge's son. 

The day following the formation of the St. 
George League an event occurred worthy of 
special notice. Unobserved we may walk up 
the marble steps to Judge Seabury 's home. 
The servants, knowing that the master is out 
and the mistress too ill to come down-stairs, 
are having a fine chance to gossip in the 
kitchen. A baby's cry comes to our ears. 
Following the sound we ascend the laipad stair- 
way, and enter a richly furnished apartment. 

‘‘Has the Judge come in yet?" queries a 
languid voice from the pillows. 

“ No madam," replies nurse Dennis, coming 

( 123 ) 


124 


Slaying the Dragon. j '* 

to the bedside and arranging her patient more 'I 
comfortably. “ I think it was master Ralph | 
whom you heard. He has just gone to his '' 
room. Can’t you try to sleep now? I will 
put the baby in the crib so you need not be , 
disturbed.” j. 

The tired fretful expression deepened on | 
Mrs. Seabury’s face. “ O dear ! I don’t see f 
why Ralph need to make so much noise. It’s ' 
too bad that I am tied down here when I 1 
wanted to go to Salem to the ex-governor’s 1 
reception. Things always go cris-cross with I 
me.” 

‘^You really must not talk any more,” said 
the nurse, anxiously viewing the flushed face i 
of her patient. “You have worked yourself 
into quite a feyer already. I shall be blamed | 
'if you are worse to-morrow. You must help 
me. Judge,” she added, as that gentleman made ji 
his appearance. “ Madam persists in talk- ; 
ing.” I 

“ How are you feeling, Clara ? ” And the } 
tall form bent over the bed, and the tone was I 
very gentle. 

“ Oh, so miserable and unhappy. Every- n 
thing goes wrong, and I’m tired of lying 
here.” 

“ What you need,” said the Judge, “ is some ( 


125 


The Dragon Works. 

wine to tone up your system. You are weak 
and run down, and need something bracing to 
bridge over this crisis. I was talking with 
Doctor Slocum about you this evening, and he 
said he should certainly recommend you to 
take wine regularly. Now let us look at our 
little girl, and see if we cannot grow happy.” 
And the Judge lifted the blanket and gazed 
with pride on the sleeping babe. “ Well, 
Clara, what shall we call her? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t care. Anything you like.” 

“ Then I shall call her Olive, after my 
mother,” answered the Judge. “ My mother 
was a very good woman. I hope Olive will 
grow up to be like her.” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t forever talk about 
your mother,” said the invalid petulantly. • “ I 
don’t doubt she was well enough in her way, 
but she would be called terribly old-fashioned 
now. I want our girl to be stylish, and as much 
admired in society as I have been. This is my 
ambition for her.” 

At this moment a heavy fall was heard in 
the room above. 

“ What is Ralph in my private room for ? ” 
cried the Judge, an angry flush mounting to 
his cheek. 

“ I wish you would go up and tell him to 


126 Slaying the Dragon. 

keep quiet,” said Mrs. Seabury. “ He’s been 
disturbing me all the evening with his noise.” 

Just at this moment Mr. Felton knocked at 
the door, and with pallid countenance, asked 
the Judge to come to the office immediately. 

Hastily mounting the stairs, the Judge 1 
threw open the door of his private office, j! 
There on the floor lay his only son, his face | 
flushed, his breathing labored. The door of 
the wine closet was ajar. An empty flask j 
told the story. Ralph Seabury was drunk. 

“Young rascal,” said the Judge, passion- 
ately. “ He shall not remain here to disgrace ' 
tl®* name of Seabury.” Giving the prostrate ' 
form a shove with his foot, he rang the bell 
sharply for assistance. Jake and Phil made f 
their appearance in no time. 

“ Take master Ralph to his room. He has 
a fainting fit; I fear. Send for Doctor Slocum ; 
immediately. Come ! make time, you lazy ! 
louts,” he added, as the colored servants stood / 
in open-mouthed surprise. y 

“ Yah, massa, we’ll do jest as yer say. \ 
Come ’long, Jake, do yer part ob de liftin’.” / 
Their burden was soon deposited on the bed, I 
and the colored men disappeared. 

“ ’Pears to me, Phil,” whispered Jake, “thet / 
massa Ralph done gone hab a purty red face 1 


127 


The Dragon Works. 

fur a faint. Golly, warnt his breff orful strong. 
An’ did yer mind the wine closet wur open, 
•which massa Judge allers keeps locked? The 
old massa thought he could pull the wool ober 
a nigger’s eyes. He can’t do it to dis chile ! ” 

“ Shet up, yer young nigger,” replied Phil, 
giving his chum a cuff on the side of the head. 
“Ef yer wants to stay here yer must keep 
yer eyes peeled an’ yer tongue still. Ef massa 
Judge should eber hear ob yer clacking out ob 
dis house he’d wring yer old black neck. Jess 
put dat inter yer pipe an’ smoke it.” 

Doctor Slocum soon made his appearance, 
and he and the Judge and Mr. Felton had a 
long talk about the boy’s condition. 

“ It’s an unfortunate thing to happen, but 
still not so serious as might be,” said the 
Doctor. “ It’ll doubtless teach the lad a les- 
son, and he’ll not be so apt to indulge another 
time. I’ve known such cases before, and they 
all came out right.” 

“ Still it would be a good thing, Judge, for 
you to piit a new lock upon the wine closet, 
and carry the key. Ralph is headstrong, and 
when a thing is denied him, he will go all 
lengths to gain- his desire.” And the minister 
sighed. 

It was finally decided by the two that Ralph 


128 Slaying the Dragon. 

should go to a certain military academy, where 
the discipline was very strict, and the rules 
were enforced. The next morning Mr. Fel- 
ton acquainted the boy of his father’s decision, 
gave him some wholesome advice on the vir- 
tue of self-control, et cetera, and accompanied 
his nephew to a distant city. 

The thought never occurred to Judge Sea- 
bury or to Mr. Felton that the wine closet was 
the primary cause of the boy’s ruin. Such is 
the perverseness of human nature, that things 
which are pleasant to us we are apt to consid- 
er right, while those which are unpleasant to 
us we often condemn as wrong. 

The Judge and the ex-minister were mod- 
erate drinkers. The former would not be 
convinced of his sin because of selfishness, the 
latter because his eyes were blinded through 
unbelief 


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There’s always a river to cross, 

Always an effort to make, 

If there’s anything good to win, 

Any rich prize to take ; 

Yonder’s the fruit we crave. 

Yonder the charming scene ; 

But deep and wide, with a troubled tide, 

Is the river that lies between. 

For the treasures of precious worth, 

We must patiently dig and dive ; 

For the places we long to fill 

We must push, and struggle, and drive ; 

And always, and everywhere. 

We’ll find in our onward course. 

Thorns for the feet, and trials to meet, 

And a difficult river to cross. 

Josephine Pollard. 


( 130 ) 


CHAPTER XII. 


MAURICE AT SCHOOL. 

“ Foe boys aee complex things, 

With ways as vaeious and inteicate 

As THOSE OF STATESMEN OE PHILOSOPHEES.” 

Maurice Dow and Robert Kinmori were 
now bright, active boys of ten years. Up to 
this time they had never attended the public 
school. Mrs. Dow possessed a good common 
school education, and she had taught the two 
boys evenings, and had thus enabled them to 
be of great assistance to Tom Kinmon in earn- 
ing the daily bread for the family. 

An opportunity to attend the village acade- 
my was hailed with great joy by these boys. 
Having never mingled with the village lads, 
they were not prepared for the rude remarks 
and sneers which greeted them the first morn- 
ing. 

“ Hallo, young salmon ! ” shouted John 
Chapman to Rob Kinmon, as he walked boldly 


132 Slaying the Dragon. 

up the steps to the school-room. “ What you 
here for ? ” 

“ What d’yer charge for a smell ? ” said 
Peter MacDuff, junior. 

“ A couple of porpoises, true ’s I live,” 
laughed Willie Riley. 

“ The ocean is our home,” sang Joe Chase, 
“of, perhaps better, ‘we are fairies of the 
sea.J ” 

“ Go ahead, boys, it don’t trouble me a bit,” 
laughed Rob, good-naturedly. “ Fish smells 
as good to me as cider made out of rotten 
apples (this was one of Deacon Chapman’s 
deaconly tricks), and Peter MacDuff can get 
all the perfume he wants from his father’s old 
dory, without robbing me of mine ; and the 
ocean is a much better home than a tavern.” 

These home thrusts seemed to meet the 
approval of the boys, as they cheered lustily, 
and allowed Rob to pass into the school-room 
without farther molestation. 

“ He’ll do,” said Barton. “ He’s got spunk. 
No milk and water there.” 

It was now Maurice’s turn to run the gaunt- 
let. Poor boy, he did not fare as well as his 
companion, for he was differently constituted. 
Proud, sensitive to a fault, high-spirited, he 
could not parry the rude remarks of the school- 


Maurice at School. 133 

boys, and when Charlie Chapman greeted 
him with the words : 

“ Here comes the boy without a name, a 
genuine foundling,” he replied with dignity : 

“ My name is Dov/, Maurice Dow, and you 
are Deacon Chapman’s son, I know.” 

“ Ha, ha ! Mr. Maurice ! The name of 
Dow aint yourn — is it, Peter ? ” 

MacDuff shook his head. 

“ Haint Phoebe told you that you want 
her son? Wal, thet’s a good one. You’ve 
learnt somethin’ by coming down town ter 
school — ” 

The ringing of the bell prevented any more 
remarks, and the scholars hastened to secure 
seats. 

“ Don’t mind what he said,” whispered 
Robbie, as he saw the look of distress on his 
companion’s face. “ John and Charlie Chap- 
man are the worst talking boys in town.” 

The names of the scholars were taken, and 
the lessons assigned. Rob and Maurice found 
that they were as far advanced in their studies 
as boys of their ages. The teachers were 
very kind to the new boys and did not require 
recitations from them that day. Notwith- 
standing Rob’s efforts to console his compan- 
ion, the cloud did not lift from Maurice’s face. 


134 Slaying the D^'agon. 

nor could he be persuaded to mingle with the 
boys at recess. 

“A reg’lar milk sop,” said Matthews, con- 
temptuously, and the boys, by common con- 
sent, rated him as such. 

School was dismissed at last, and Maurice 
hurried home, burst into the room where Mrs. 
Dow was sitting, and throwing his books upon 
the table, he cried : 

“ I will never go to that school again to be 
insulted.” 

“What has been said to you, my son, that 
makes you feel so ? ” said Phoebe, in astonish- 
ment. 

“ Mother, is my name Dow ? ” 

Phoebe was not prepared for this question, 
and she gazed for some minutes into the flush- 
ed, anxious face of the boy, without replying, 
then she said slowly : 

“What makes you ask me such a question, 
my son ? ” 

“ Charlie Chapman called me a foundling, 
and said I had no right to your name. Is it 
true ? ” 

Seeing that the question could no longer be 
evaded, Mrs. Dow drew the boy close to her 
side, and told him the story of the shipwreck, 
and the little waif ; told him of his mother who 


Mattrice at School, 


135 


was buried on the hillside by the sea, and 
showed him the initials, M. J. D. worked on 
the baby clothes, and the name Maurice writ- 
ten in ink on a neck handkerchief. But I 
have legally adopted you, my boy, and you 
have a right to the name of Dow. If your 
father is living you may meet him some day. 
At all events you are the son I have taken to 
fill the place of the one I mourn as dead. 
Cheer up, my child, and do not mind the rude 
remarks of those village boys.'’ 

Maurice was silent for some minutes, then 
kissing his foster mother, he left the room. A 
terrible struggle was going on in his soul— a 
struggle between the good and the bad angel. 
‘‘ I will never go back to school to be laughed 
at,” he cried, clenching his fists. I will go 
away from Fairport, where people don't know 
me, and earn my own living. I won't be a 
pauper any longer.” The dark angel brooded 
over the boy for a time, but his sway was brief 
The shining angel put gentle thoughts into 
his soul ; thoughts of this kind foster mother, 
who had cared for him from infancy ; thoughts 
of the bitter trials she had already experienced 
and her great love for him ; thoughts of the 
grief she would feel at his leaving her home ; 
thoughts of the future, in which he had fondly 


136 Slaying the Dragon, 

dreamed of doing something great and grand ; 
thoughts of the education which he could get 
at the academy, free of expense. Should he 
give up his plans because of a little ridicule? 
Could he not be manly enough to bear it 
silently? Yes, he could, and he would be a 
man and do his duty. The good angel 
triumphed, and the evil thoughts, like the 
dark birds of night, folded their wings and 
flew away. 

Maurice went back to his mother and found 
her sitting with her face buried in her hands, the 
tears trickling through her fingers. “ Mother,” 
he said softly, “ I will go back to school and 
bear the insults of the boys. You have been 
good to me, and I will take care of you.” 

“ Thank God,” said Mrs. Dow fervently. 
“ I thought I had lost my boy.” 

The first day at school was an index to the 
days which followed. Rob Kinmon was a 
general favorite, iready for any fun, while 
Maurice, being reserved and studious, was 
constantly tormented. The haughty indiffer- 
ence with which Im bore the taunts of the boys 
excited universal surprise. 

“ He’s a pretty high stepper fur a pauper,” 
said Charlie Chapman. “We’ll hev ter take 
him down a peg.” 


Maurice at School. 


137 


After consulting with Joe Chase, a list of 
rhymes was concocted, and found by Maurice, 
one morning, pasted in his atlas. 

A proud young feller is our friend, M. D. 

Tho’ we wonder mutch at it, sence a pauper is he. 

But stranger things hev happened in the town of Fairport, 
Things which hev given the school-boys much sport. 

We hope that our friend, the young Mr. Dow, 

A compliment from his mates will allow, 

We think he is fit a missionary ter be, 

Sence he likes well ter eat the bread of char-i-tee. 


“ It isn’t right to plague the boy so,” said 
Frank Strong, the minister’s son. “ If none 
of the rest of you will stand up for Maurice, 
Rob Kinmon and I will. Now, I tell you 
plainly, boys, that if you don’t quit this sort of 
thing. I’ll leave the base ball club.” 

“ Leave it if you want ter,” replied John 
Chapman, coarsely. “ Guess we kin get ano- 
ther catcher ef you don’t want ter play.” 

“ Keep quiet, John, or Frank will leave the 
club, and we can never beat at the next base 
ball match, if he backs out. He’s the best 
catcher we have.” 

“You’re right, Barton. Strong plays well. 
I guess we’ll leave the book-worm alone now. 
We hev plagued him consid’rable. I’ll ’low,” 


138 Slaying the Dragon. 

and the boys followed V.^illie Riley into the 
play-ground. 

Things went along very smoothly for some 
months, and Maurice was left largely to him- 
self. Frank Strong was his most intimate 
friend, and the two boys were together much 
of the time. But Joe Chase ow'ed Maurice a 
grudge for winning his place in the class, and 
toward the close of the term he played a seri- 
ous joke upon his school-mate. 

Opposite the Maypole there was a well of 
clear cold water, over which was a chain pump, 
and Maurice usually stopped on his way, to 
and from school, for a drink. One night, just 
as he was about to draw the water, Joe Chase 
came out of the tavern. 

“ Hallo, Dow, he said pleasantly. “ Don’t 
bother to draw that water, ef you are in a 
hurry. I’ve jest made some lemonade, and I 
will bring you out a glass.” 

Maurice was unsuspicious by nature, and 
never dreaming of danger, he thanked Joe for 
his kindness, and said he should be glad of the 
lemonade. The contents of the glass looked 
very inviting to the tired boy, and he drank 
half the glass without stopping, then he real- 
ized the trick which had been played on him. 
His mouth and throat burned as though he 


Maurice at School. 


139 


had swallowed fire. Flinging the glass to the 
ground, he cried : 

“You will live to be sorry for this some 
day ! ” 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! ” lauglied Joe. “ Here’s one 
of the St. George Knights who can drink off 
brandy like an old toper. Oh, it’s the richest 
joke out ! ” and he laughed loud and long, till 
Maurice was out of sight. 


What if ere seed of our sowing, 

Showeth or leaflet or shoot, 

We must pass onward unknowing, 

What shall be blossom or fruit ? 

Sunshine and breeze will befriend it, 
Dewdrops of eve and of dawn ; 

Hands be outstretched to defend it 
Haply — though we shall be gone. 

We shall be gone, past want, past woe, 

Into the joys which the angels know. 

W. M. L. Jay. 


( 140 ) 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE JUDGE VERSUS THE MINISTER. 

This should teach us not to fear the face ot 
MEN 5 no, nor the FACES OF THE MIGHTY; WE MUST 
NOT BE AFRAID OF Og, KiNG OF BaSHAN, THOUGH 
HIS HEAD BE AS HIGH AS THE RIDGE OF A HOUSE, 
AND HIS BEDSTEAD, A BEDSTEAD OF IRON. PERSECU- 
TION, OR THE APPEARANCE OF GIANTS AGAINST THE 
SERVANTS OF GOD IS NO NEW BUSINESS. 

John Bunyan. 

Oh mother, I have disgraced you forever ! 
cried Maurice, and sitting down by the side of 
his foster-mother, he burst into tears. 

Why, my boy, what is the matter? said 
Phoebe in alarm. Maurice then told the whole 
story of his wrongs. “ Oh, to think I have 
broken my pledge,'' he sobbed. ‘‘ They will 
take away my silver badge." 

Mrs. Dow was justly indignant at what had 
happened, but she soothed the boy's wounded 
feelings, assured him that he was not to blame, 
and that if he explained the matter to Mr. 

( 141 ) 


142 Slaying the Dragon. 

Strong, she was sure he would not be censured 
or deprived of his badge of honor. 

“But I have not told you the worst,” said 
Maurice. “ I liked the taste of the nasty stuff, 
and what if I should learn to love it ? ” 

Phoebe turned pale at these words. Could 
it be possible that Maurice had inherited a love 
for liquor ? Could she save him from its ter- 
rible power ? How many times in her experi- 
ence had she witnessed the unsuccessful strug- 
gle to overcome this curse. Brother, husband, 
and son, had been conquered. Must this 
young life be sacrificed to the dragon, also ? 

“Maurice,” said Mrs. Dow, solemnly, “you 
have this day learned a bitter lesson. Promise 
me that you will watch and pray, hour by hour, 
that you may not be led into temptation. You 
have a natural appetite for liquor, I fear. Re- 
member, it takes only the smallest sip of alcohol 
to set in a blaze the unhallowed fire. Encour- 
age this appetite, and very soon the strength 
of a Hercules shall not be able to conquer it. 
Knowing your weakness, struggle, fight, pray 
as for your life. You have already heard from 
my lips the sad story of those lives that were 
wrecked by the dragon, intemperance. Be 
warned, my child, ere it is too late.” 

Maurice was much moved by her words, and 


The Judge versus the Minister. 143 

promised, over and over again, to withstand 
the enemy, and to be on his guard daily. 

“ You can never do this in your own strength. 
Never forget this. Let us ask God, now, to 
keep you safe from the wiles of the tempter.” 
And Phoebe prayed fervently for the child of 
her adoption, that he might come off conqueror 
through the grace given from on high. 

This hour marked an era in the life of Mau- 
rice Dow. He realized his dependence upon 
God as never before, and with the simplicity 
of a little child he cast his burden on the Lord, 
and trusted him to care for his future. Maurice 
dated his Christian life from this time. He 
was not a great Christian, but a little Christian. 
With face set Zionward, and pilgrim staff in 
hand, he had commenced that journey which 
leads toward the sun-rising. 

In the mean time Judge Seabufy was be- 
ginning to miss his Sabbath privileges, and was 
willing once more to guide the reins of church 
government. He had been fore-casting the 
matter in his mind, and had come to the con- 
clusion that Parson Strong must go. Mr. 
Felton cordially seconded the Judge’s decision. 
Less than one-half the parish were members 
of the church, and as the yearly meeting was 
near at hand, the twain felt that this little mat- 


144 Slaying the Dragon. 

ter could be adjusted without much trouble. 
Reuben Palmer was summoned to confer with 
him on this point. 

“ I take it you don’t like Parson Strong,” 
said the Judge, fixing his eyes on the man’s 
face. 

“ Well, I don’t know as he ever did me any 
harm,” hesitated Reuben. He could not quite 
banish from his mind the kindness of Mr. 
Strong to his family when they were in trouble. 

“ I take it you don’t like the parson,” repeat- 
ed the Judge, with emphasis. 

“Yes — that is, no — I guess not,” answered 
the poor victim. 

“ It is well that you do not. If you did, we 
should have to settle some little accounts of long 
standing. Now, Palmer, you take this circular 
and go about with it this very afternoon, at the 
Cove and down to the Row, and get as many 
to sign it as possible. See that you do your 
business thoroughly. I shall know it if you do 
not, and it will go hard with you. You 
couldn’t raise that mortgage on your house if 
you sold everything you had.” 

“I know it,” answered Reuben, humbly. 
“ I will do exactly as you say.” When he got 
outside the door he groaned aloud. “ Oh, I 
hate myself for doing it ! The minister ’s been 


The Judge versus the M mister, 145 

good ter me ! Ob, if I only could be a man ! 
But the Judge can turn me out of house and 
home, and wife’s sick ! Oh, dear ! ” 

The cabinet-maker sallied forth on his mis- 
sion with a crestfallen air. He found no lack 
of signatures. Deacon Chapman signed, the 
apothecary followed, the tavern-keeper was 
only too glad to add his signature, and Peter 
MacDufif laughed aloud with glee. A large 
number of fishermen seeing that the Judge's 
name headed the list, put their names down. 
Reuben Palmer felt mean through and through. 
There was some goodness in his heart, and the 
minister had found it. Hoping secretly to turn 
the tide of events, he hailed Tom Kinmon, who 
was outside his cottage, calking the seams in 
his dory. 

I say, Kinmon, I’m doing a dirty job.” 

'‘That’s no news. Yer always a-doin' 
them. What deviltry hes the Judge started 
now ? ” 

"Oh Tom, don’t look so mad to me. I aint 
on his side, only he bosses me around. It’s 
about the minister. He’s got to go.” 

“ Got to go ! ” roared Tom. " What d’yer 
mean, yer shark ? Out with it, and mind yer 
chew yer words well, or I’ll — ” The clenched 
fist and scowling face of the old fisherman 
10 


146 Slaying the Dragon. 

made the cabinet-maker’s knees knock to- 
gether with fear. 

“ Here’s the paper, Tom. The Judge sent 
me around with it, and he’s going to put the 
minister out next parish meeting. I told you 
Tom, to see if you couldn’t do nothing for the 
parson. I haint nothing against the man, but 
you know the Judge has a hold on me and I 
have to do what he says, whether I want to or 
not.” 

“ Yer old sculpin,” said Tom, regarding the 
cabinet-maker with contempt. “ Yer’d sign 
the death-warrant of yer best friend ter git yer 
carcass out of a tight place. Ef yer were on 
board my ship an’ I was the Cap’n, yer’d git 
the cat-o’-nine-tails a-switchin’ round yer legs, 
lively. Go ahead with yer dirty job. The 
parson aint agoin’ eny more’n I be. We’ll see 
which ’ll beat, the Judge or the parson. Out 
o’ my sight now, or I’ll pay you with coal tar, 
instid o’ the bottom o’ my dory.” 

While Tom sets about counteracting the 
evil influence of the Judge, let us glance a 
moment at the minister. Arnold Strong was 
not blind to the commotion which his active 
temperance methods had created in Fairport, 
He had been past the Maypole many times of 
late, and had heard some of the rough fisher- 


The Judge versus the Minister, 147 

men using profane language and cursing that 
teetotal parson who was trying to deprive them 
of sperrits.’' 

Deacon Ray warned the minister against 
personal violence. '' These rowdies are so full 
of malice that I am fearful they may lay hands 
on you some night. You had better go 
armed.’' 

The minister’s eyes flashed fire. 

Do you think they will dare attack me? 
Let them come ! I am a minister, to be sure, 
but the right to defend my person is not de- 
prived me as yet. I should just like to have 
a hand-to-hand encounter with these rumsell- 
ers. There’s nothing sometimes so effectual 
as a knock-down argument. I feel sure I 
could administer such with the best of them.” 
With these words he drew himself to his full 
height and looked every inch a Hercules. 

The deacon looked on admiringly. I 
would that we could depend upon all our church 
members at the approaching parish meeting,” 
he said. “The fact is there are some weak- 
minded ones, whom the Judge and Mr. Felton 
have frightened, and made to feel that the 
church will surely go to pieces if you stay.” 

“ The church ought to go to pieces that is 
not built on a total abstinence foundation,” re- 


148 Slaying the Dragon, 

plied the minister. '' But it won’t go down. 
God will take care of his own work. All we 
have got to do is our duty. I can live on as 
little as any minister, and Vv^hat the society 
loses by my temperance methods, I am willing 
to have deducted from my salary. As to leav- 
ing Fairport, I am not going to do it. I have 
come here to stay till my work is done, and it 
will not be done until every place where liquor 
can be obtained is shut up. They cannot drive 
me away. No council could justly send me 
away. The only charge which can be pre- 
ferred against me is that I preach temperance 
within and without the church.” 

‘G like your spirit, Mr. Strong,” replied the 
deacon. ‘‘ Keep up good courage. The tide 
must turn soon, and I am certain it will be in 
your favor.” 




If there be one thing upon this earth thar man- 
kind love and admire better than another, it is a brave 
man — it is the man who dares to look the devil in 
the face, and tell him he is a devil.’' 

Garfield. 

Budge,” says the Fiend. Budge not,” says 
my conscience. 

Launcelot, in Merchant of Venice. 

Certain mouthfuls of articulate wind will be blown 
at us, and this what mortal courage can front ? ” 

Carlyle. 

‘‘ Why should we be afraid of anything, with Him 
looking at us who is the Saviour of men ? ” 

Mac Donald. 


(150) 


CHAPTER XIV. 


PARSON STRONG MUST GO. 

There are shepherds that cause their 

FLOCKS TO GO ASTRAY J AKD THERE ARE SHEPHERDS 
THAT FEED THEIR FLOCKS.^^ 

Bunyan. 

The Sunday prior to the parish meeting, 
Mr. Strong announced that in the evening he 
would deliver a temperance address, and in- 
vited all to be present. The church was 
crowded, and many who could get no sittings 
stood in the aisles. The pastor then stated, in 
forcible language, the condition of things in 
Fairport. He told the number of places, pub- 
lic and private, where liquor could be obtained. 
He exposed the so-called reading-rooms, bil- 
liard and pool-rooms, showing them to be 
places where the night was spent in drinking 
and gambling. He told of the fishermens 
wives, who with babes in their arms, had gone 
to the tavern and pleaded that no more liquor 

( 151 ) 


152 Slaying the Dragon. 

should be sold to their husbands. He told of 
a mother who went down the street, one night, 
wringing her hands, and crying^ “ Where’s my 
Arthur ? ” and entering the tavern she found 
her boy dead-drunk behind the counter. He 
closed his address with a pointed argument, on 
“ Where does the money go ? ” and proved 
conclusively that a large per cent of the people 
of Fairport gave it to the rumseller. 

The sermon had its desired effect, in that it 
awakened lively discussion in all quarters. 
Landlord Chase and his clique foamed with 
rage at the exposure. 

“ It’s the last sermon that man shall preach 
in this church,” muttered Judge Seabury, as 
he walked out. 

“Amen,” said Mr. Felton. “The man 
profanes the sanctuary by his fanatical not.i- 
sense.” 

The parish meeting came off at last, and 
such a parish meeting had never been known 
in the annals of the church. Every member 
of the parish, able to be out, was present, and 
a look of interest on every face, betokened the 
coming contest. There was an influx of new 
society members on this occasion. Fishermen 
who had never cared before to identify them- 
selves with church matters^ had been worked 


153 


Parson Strong Must Go. 

upon slyly by the opposition, and roused to 
such a feeling of dislike toward Mr. Strong, 
that they were eager to improve the chance of 
voting against him. 

Deacon Lane was chosen moderator of the 
meeting, and after the preliminary business 
had been transacted, the matter of the minis- 
ter's salary was introduced. Judge Seabury 
immediately arose. 

There is a question prior to the one you 
have mentioned," he began, ‘'which a part of 
this audience, at least are anxious to discuss. 
‘Is it desirable that Arnold Strong remain 
with us as our pastor?' Since his coming the 
church has been rent in twain by dissensions. 
His fanaticism has driven influential men from 
the pews. Mr. Strong was called here to 
preach the gospel, not to go off at a tangent, 
and devote his best energies to the temperance 
cause. I, for one, am tired of the sound of the 
word ‘ Reform ! ' I want to hear the old gospel, 
and it seems a pity that our church is denied 
this privilege. I am not alone in the feeling 
that Mr. Strong preaches a spurious doctrine, 
calculated to keep the church in a state of 
fermentation, and sure to breed ruin. I hold 
before you a petition with seventy-five signa- 
tures, asking the pastor to send in his resigna- 


154 Slaying the Dragon. 

tion. This petition represents many influen- 
tial members of both church and society. I 
would beg to move that this question be dis- 
cussed freely, and a vote taken.” 

“The Judge has expressed my sentiments 
exactly,” said Marcus Young, the apothecary. 
“ When I go to church I want to hear the 
gospel preached. I don’t want a man who 
knows nothing about pharmacy to tell me how 
I must prepare and sell my medicines. I 
don’t go to Mr. Strong’s study and tell him 
how to put his sermons together, because it’s 
none of my business. I don’t want my minis- 
ter to meddle in my affairs for the same rea- 
son. As Judge Seabury says, Mr. Strong’s 
methods have driven influential men from both 
church and society. In my opinion it is time 
active measures were taken to remove so dan- 
gerous a man from our midst.” 

During these remarks the sexton could 
hardly keep his seat. His face turned red, 
and his diminutive figure swelled to its utmost. 
At last he rose, and, in a clumsy manner, 
said : 

“ I’ve heerd it talked on the streets that the 
opposition contained the better half of the 
church and society. I wish all those who 
signed that petition jest mentioned, would get 


Parson Strong Must Go. 155 

up and show themselves. I am curious to see 
who the ^better half are ! ” 

If a bomb shell had exploded in their very 
midst, it could not have created any more of a^ 
sensation than did this speech of Daniel 
Rogers, a quiet, unobtrusive man, who was 
never known to express an opinion. A good 
many smiled audibly, others looked enraged, 
while Reuben Palmer fairly turned pale, from 
the fear that he should have to rise, and so 
take a decided stand against the minister. 

The apothecary trembled with anger, and 
springing to his feet, he cried : 

'‘I never said any such thing! It’s all a 
lie! How dare you insult me, sir?” thus 
acknowledging the corn by his strenuous 
denial. 

‘‘ Keep calm, sir! Keep calm ! ” whispered 
Judge Seabury. There’s nothing gained by 
a show of temper.” Then addressing the 
moderator, he said : I hope the request of 

our sexton will not be formulated into a mo- 
tion, as it is hardly fair to ask people to rise, 
under such peculiar circumstances.” 

“ If these people have done notliing to be 
ashamed of, I see no reason why they should 
feel delicate about rising,” remarked Deacon 
Lane. 


156 Slaying the Dragon. 

“ That’s so,” said the sexton, again rising to 
the occasion. “ But I won’t press the matter. 
I know pretty well that the petition has the 
signatures of a good many rummies, besides 
those of a pack of wimmen, old maids, and 
widders, and sech like, who haint nothing else 
to do but make trouble. I wouldn’t have 
them signers git up for nothing. It would be 
too great a shock for civilized folks to stand.” 

The meeting was once more called to order, 
and the discussion went on. Good old Dea- 
con Ray was the next speaker, and in a brief 
speech he eulogized the pastor’s work in Fair- 
port. 

“ If you go the world over,” he said, “you 
will not find a man whose whole being is more 
truly consecrated to the cause of promoting 
Christ’s kingdom in the world, than is that of 
our pastor. His daily life is a rebuke to most 
of us. If we think he doesn’t preach the 
practical gospel, then I’m afraid we could not 
sit under the preaching of the Master himself. 
There were a plenty in His day who could not 
bear to hear their sins and their duties pressed 
home. When He tried the experiment, many 
were offended, and walked no more with Him. 
It is true our church is rent in twain, but that 
is not a sign of ruin, by any means. 


Parson Strong Must Go. 157 

‘ It is not life, but death, 

Where nothing stirs.’ 

If there are wolves in sheeps’ clothing, it is 
time the church found them out. If there are 
tares among the wheat, they must be rooted 
up, else they will choke the wheat. This sift- 
ing process is beneficial. In the end it will 
work the peaceable fruits.” 

‘'I rise to say one thing,” said Dr. Slocum. 

Any man who harps on total abstinence is a 
fanatic. Any person who has looked into the 
science of medicine knows that stimulants are 
an essential to some constitutions, and in some 
diseases they are absolutely necessary to the 
recovery of the patient. I have a contempt 
for any man who gets hold of one idea, and 
then goes off on a tangent.” 

‘‘ Perhaps our minister has looked deeper 
into the subject than we know, when he advo- 
cates total abstinence so strenuously,” replied 
the new physician, Dr. Blake. ‘‘ There is, as 
you very well know, abundant testimony to the 
fact that intemperance, besides swallowing 
millions of dollars annually and filling the land 
with vice and crime, poisons the very lifeblood 
of the race. The blighting effect of alcohol in 
the line of hereditary transmission is becoming 
every day more apparent. Dr. Holls, in his 


158 Slaying the Dragon. 

report on the state of idiocy in Massachusetts, 
states that ‘ the habits of one or both parents 
of three hundred idiots having been learned, 
one hundred and forty-five of these children 
were found to be the progeny of habitual 
drunkards.’ I say, shame on the minister if 
he has not the good of the race at heart, and 
does not lift up his voice against this terrible 
curse.” 

“ Wal,” growled Deacon Chapman, thare 
aint no us a-beatin’ round the bush. The 
parson aint the man we want, and he’s got ter 
go. He’s bin round a-peekin’ inter folkes 
bizness long enuff, an’ we aint a-goin’ ter stan’ 
it. ble needs a bigger place than Fairport 
ter air his notions in, an’ I fur one shall be 
glad ter git rid on him.” 

“ That’s jess so — hie — go fur him. Deacon. 
I’ll — hie — hie — help ye boost the cussed — hie 
— teetotaler.” 

Heads began to turn in the direction from 
whence came these incoherent words, and 
there, at the back of the room, holding on to 
the door for a support, stood Peter MacDuff, 
his blood-shot eyes and trembling movements 
indicating but too well his condition. 

“ Keep still ! Put him out ! Shame! shame!” 
were the cries all over the vestry. 


159 


Parson Strong Must Go. 

“ Don’t profane the Lord’s house longer by 
your presence,” said Judge Seabury, sternly. 

“That’s a good joke — hie — Squire. Ye 
got me ter — hie — come here ter vote — hie — 
agin the parson. An’ now — hie — ye tell me 
ter git out. I’ve jined — hie — ther — ther — 
what d’yer call it ? Hie — an’ I’ve — hie — es 
good a right — hie — hie — ter stay here es — hie 
— hie — es ye have.” 

Several men immediately went forward and 
with the aid of the sexton, the drunken man 
was removed from the vestry, but not without 
a fierce struggle. When order was again 
restored, Tom Kinmon had the floor, his hands 
shoved into the depth of his pants pockets, and 
his eyes glaring from under his shaggy eye- 
brows. 

“ Parson Strong,” he began, “ hes come 
here ter save the boys. He has seen your 
boy, an’ your boy, and your boy,” pointing his 
long forefinger in the direction of Judge Sea- 
bury, Deacon Chapman, and others, “dead 
drunk, an’ he’s a-tryin’ ter help ’em. Fathers, 
ef he should save but one boy from the bot- 
tomless pit, shouldn’t ye think he’d done a 
blessed work, ef it wur your boy ? Ay, thet 
ye would ! Thare are some folks who are 
a-trying to kick out o’ town the cr.ly cne who 


i6o Slaying the Dragon. 

can help us ter slay the dragon. Thare 
sets the man,” pointing to the Judge, “who 
fust started the cry, ‘ Parson Strong must 

go!’ , 

Yer rich an' powerful, sir, but yer gold is 
cankered, ther moth an' rust they hev corrupt- 
ed it. Yer devour widder's houses, snatch the 
bread from orphans' lips, coin money from 
their prayers an' tears, an' send souls down ter 
perdition. As if thet were not enufif, yer cry, 
* Parson Strong must go !' 

‘‘ Yer teach the ignorant ter sin, yer hold 
the cup ter yer neebor’s lips, yer help to make 
fathers, fiends (an' we jest see one), mothers, 
widders; sons, a curse; daughters, outcasts ; 
homes a hell ; and towns the cess-pool o' wick- 
edness an' crime. Yer help to drive the 
assassin's knife, to light the incendiary's torch, 
ter destroy the sacredness o' ther marriage 
bond, an' sell the souls o' men fur filthy lucre. 
Yet, ‘ Parson Strong must go ! ' 

‘‘The streets are full o' mourners, ther 
grave opens to receive broken-hearted wives 
an' mothers, ther bloom an' beauty fades from 
the cheek o' the young, an' ther cry goes up 
ter heaven, ‘ Oh, Lord, how long ? ' Ther 
dragon laughs in fiendish triumph, ther angels 
cover their eyes an' weep, ther gates o' ruin 


Parso7i Strofig Must Go, i6i 

are wide open ter receive ther wrecks o’ men 
an’ women from Fairport, an’ ther Beautiful 
Gate is shut. But ‘ Parson Strong must go ! ’ 
All, in thet great day o’ the Lord, mayhap your 
own son, sir, will rise up and curse you fur 
leadin’ him, step by step, down ter ruin. Yer 
may not know it, but even now his feet take hold 
on death. Satan an’ his legion are arter him, 
an’ I trow they will do their work only too 
well. Go on with your cursed work if ye will. 
Hold high over the heads of men mortgages 
an’ deeds. I tell ye the day is a-comin’ when 
yer laughing will be turned to wailin’. But 
Parson Strong shan’t go ! ” 

For a moment after Tom Kinmon ceased 
speaking profound silence reigned. The elo- 
quence of this unlettered man electrified the 
audience, and every one hung upon his wordx 
The Judge sat, pale as death, and those who 
were near him, declared that he trembled, not 
from anger, but fear. He was evidently 
silenced by Tom’s words, as was the whole 
company. After a little time. Deacon Lane 
declared that the time for closing the discus- 
sion had arrived, and the vote would now be 
taken. 

‘‘ One moment,” said Deacon Ray. I hold 
in my hands a petition signed by eighty per- 
il 


i 62 


Slaying the Dragon. 


sons, asking Mr. Strong to remain with us as 
our pastor. I move that tlie votes be taken 
on slips of paper, as this way is the most im- 
partial. Let each one do his duty.'’ 

Second the motion,” shouted the sexton» 
‘‘ though we aint any of us ashamed ter git up 
an’ own our signatures.” 

While the votes were being counted a 
breathless stillness filled the place. Men sat 
leaning forward, with eyes fixed upon the 
clerk, who was assorting the ballots. But the 
clerk’s face, like that of the Sphinx, was un- 
readable. He counted and re-counted the 
votes, that there might be no mistake, and 
then cleared his throat, which was a signal 
that he was ready to impart the desired infor- 
mation. 

There were eighty votes cast,” he com- 
menced. Sixty-five of these were for — 
for — ” he hesitated, as though he enjoyed the 
power; v/hich, for once in his life, at least, he 
held, ‘‘ for Mr. Strong. Fifteen votes were 
aofainst him.” 

Enthusiastic applause followed this an- 
nouncement. It took but a few moments to 
adjust the matter of the minister’s salary satis- 
factorily, and the meeting was dismissed. 


Parson Strong Must Go. 163 

God bless the parson/' said Tom Kinmon, 
as he wrung Deacon Lane's hand. 

Other ears caught the words, and God bless 
the parson," went from lip to lip^ until the op- 
position were glad to slink out of sight and 
hearing, and brood over their signal defeat. 


s 


Christ for the world, we sing; 
The world to Christ we bring, 
With fervent prayer ; 

The wayward and the lost. 

By restless passions tossed. 
Redeemed at countless cost 
From dark despair.'' 


( 164 ) 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE. 

men of good lives 

Who by their virthohs actions stir hp others 

To NOBLE AND RELIGIOUS IMITATION 

Receive the greater glory after death 

(As SIN MUST NEEDS CONFESS :) WHAT MAY THEY 
FEEL 

In HEIGHT OF TORMENT AND IN WEIGHT OF VEN- 
GEANCE, 

Not only they themselves not doing well 
Bht set a light up to show men to hell.^^ 

Middleton. 

The result of the parish meeting was a nine 
days' wonder in Fairport, and furnished a topic 
of conversation for weeks. Party feeling ran 
high, but the opposition dwindled steadily but 
surely. The tidal wave of public opinion had 
turned, as Deacon Ray predicted, and it was 
in Mr. Strong’s favor. The large donation 
party, and the numerous gifts left behind for 
the pastor and his wife, spoke volumes. The 
Judge was too angry at his defeat to appear 
very often in public. He sent Reuben Palmer 

( 165 ; 


1 66 Slaying the Dragon. 

a notice the day after the parish meeting, tell- 
ing him that he could have a week in which to 
raise the mortgage on his house. Otherv/ise 
the mortgage would be foreclosed. The 
Judge suspected that Reuben and some of his 
other allies had turned traitor to him, and he 
was not far from right. Tom Kinmon’s speech 
had put courage into the hearts of the cowards, 
and the mode of balloting had made it easy 
for this class to do its duty. All the comfort 
the Judge and the ex-minister got was to meet 
a few of their cronies, mourn over their fancied 
injuries and pile anathemas upon the minister’s 
devoted head. 

One night a few weeks after this Mr. Strong 
was called to the Cove, late in the evening, to 
visit the dying daughter of one of the fishermen. 
As he passed the Maypole, sounds of drunken 
merriment reached his ears. The windows 
were not screened, and as he passed he could 
see John Chapman in the centre of the room, 
half tipsy, attempting to make a speech, greatly 
to the amusement of the crowd. Charlie 
Chapman was there also, with a glass of liquor 
in his hand. Poor boy ! Just starting on the 
road to ruin. No, not just starting ! The 
first steps were taken in his father’s kitchen 
when the great mug of cider was passed 


The Midnight Adventure, 167 

around. It is only a step from cider drinking 
to beer and whiskey drinking. 

So thought the minister, as he walked on. 
Could he have known all that was transpiring 
in that sink of iniquity, he might not have felt 
so unconcerned as to his personal safety. 

“ I drink this grog ter the downfall o’ thet 
cussed parson,” shouted Peter MacDuff, as he 
held high over his head a glass full of poor 
whiskey. 

Thet’s right ! Go ahead ! Them’s my 
sentiments ! ” responded his companions. 

Why, MacDuff, don't you like your minis- 
ter ?” asked the landlord with an insinuating 
smile. 

No,” cried the fisherman, uttering terrible 
oaths and curses. He’s a-tryin’ ter take from 
us poor coves the only thing thet makes us feel 
good, ati’ forgit our troubles. He wants ter 
take whiskey from us, an’ whiskey is the best 
friend we hev. Hurrah !” and MacDuff lifted 
the glass high above his head, singing as he 
did so a coarse song familiar to those who 
frequented the tavern. 

‘ ^ We’ll sail ther seas agin : 

We’ll sling a bottle of gin : 

We^ll buy old Rye, fur the goose hangs high, 

An^ we wont go home till morniff.” 


1 68 Slaying the Dragon. 

“ That’s right, MacDuff. Stand up fur your 
friends. I like ter hev a man speak well of 
the bridge which carries him safely over. 
You, and the whole kit of you, would hev 
frozen many a rough night on your way ter 
the Cove efit hadn’t been fur your good friend 
whiskey, which another of your friends, even 
myself, gave you.” And Chase assumed a be- 
nevolent expression, not quite in harmony with 
the low cunning in his eyes. 

“ Ha, ha ! thet’s pretty thin,” laughed Tyler 
Matthews. “ Chase is our friend. He gives 
us drinks when we want ’em. Ha, ha, ha ! 
It’s too thin. Chase.” 

“Itisch von goot joke,” smiled Carl Schmidt, 
between the puffs of his clay pipe. 

“Dad looks like a martyr, don’t he? ’’put 
in Joe Chase, and the tavern echoed with noisy 
laughter. 

An injured expression appeared on the land- 
lord’s countenance. “ I don’t see why there’s 
so much laughing at my expense. I’m sure I 
told you a solium fact when I said I were a 
friend ter you all.” 

“See here. Chase,” interrupted Tyler Mat- 
thews, with abroad grin, “d’yer think you can 
gum us over with goody talk ? I declar’ you’ve 
missed your callin’. You oughter been a par- 


169 


The Midnight Adventure. 

son. Now, I ricollect a leetle incident which 
happened in this very room, some eight year 
ago. It was es blusterin’ an’ raw out es it is 
ter-night. Thare was a crov/d on us around, 
a-talkin’, somethin’ as we are now, when sud- 
denly the door opened, an’ about es hard 
a-lookin’ cove come in es ever I see in my life. 
He wanted drink, he said, an’ his eyes follered 
our glasses es we held them to our lips, and sot 
thim down on the table, with so greedy a look 
thet I pitied the chap. Wal, you poured him 
out a glassful, but you was awful sharp, you 
was. You asked the cove ter fork out his 
chink, but the feller owned he hadn’t a cent, 
but offered you his coat. You took the old 
coat an’ gave the man the glass. Wal, he 
swallowed it before you could say Jack Robin- 
son, an’ called fur more. He told you he’d 
give you his boots fur another drink. I ricol- 
lect jest the words he used. ‘ All I’se got in 
the world is on my back, but I must hev drink. 
Take my boots.’ One of us said, ‘ Why, man, 
you’ll freeze ! ’ ‘Taint no matter,’ he mutter- 
ed, ‘ I’m lost, body and soul ! ’ Wal, sir, I 
waited till I see you was a-goin’ ter be mean 
enuff ter take all the poor feller’s clothes, an’ 
then I stepped up an’ paid the bill, an’ let the 
cove hev his coat an’ boots back agin, fur it 


1 70 Slaying the Dragon. 

was a freezing night. An’ that man was found 
stark dead the next morning, frozen ter death, 
I spose. But, es I was a-sayin’, thet’s the way 
you give away your drinks, landlord. You 
jest skin a cove of his money, an’ then’ you 
don’t mind takin’ the clothes off his back, ef 
you can’t git pay eny other way. Give away 
drinks? Bah!” and Matthews brought his 
fist down on the table with such force that all 
the glassware in the tavern trembled at the 
shock. 

“ Ef I were so badly treated es all that I’d 
stay away from sech a bad place,” said Chase, 
with heat. “ You aint any of you forced to 
lounge about here, unless you wanter. I no- 
tice you fellers don’t need eny urgin’ ter come 
in here every night.” 

“ Don’t git mad! I didn’t mean nothin’,” 
replied Matthews; “only you were a-braggin’ 
about bein’ so generous an’ disinterested, thet 
I jest wanted ter remind you of a few facts. 
But, never mind. We all know you through 
an’ through, an’ what we do, we do with our 
eyes open. I must say I do hate ter see young 
men a-comin’ here, fur they wont leave till 
they’ve been fleeced. We old coves know 
more, but these young ones will hang around 
till every cent is gone.” 


The Midnight Adventure. 171 

Two young men had just entered the bil- 
liard-room. Ish dese sh’ boys Deacon Chap- 
man’s sh’ boys ? ” inquired Carl. 

“Yes,” replied Steve Barton, “an’ their 
father is deacon in the church, yonder. Dea- 
con Chapman is one of your mean, stingy, 
hypocritical kind of church members, thet are 
a nuisance ter any town, an’ a damage ter any 
church. I wouldn’t trust him as fur as I could 
see him. Last year, he promised ter bring me 
two loads of good wood, ready ter burn. I 
paid him fur it beforehand, an’ if you’ll b’leeve 
it, he brought me leetle worm-eaten crooked 
sticks, not more ’n half seasoned. I ordered 
him ter cart it away, but as long as he’d got 
his pay, he didn’t propose ter do it, an’ didn’t. 
Why, I wouldn’t join the church so long as 
thet man was a member, in good an’ reg’lar 
standin’, fur no money.” 

“ Do you think of makin’ a perfession of re- 
ligion, and jinin’ the parson’s string of teeto- 
tallers ? ” asked Chase, maliciously. “You’d 
make a first-class exhorter, I think.” 

“ Don’t be so techy,” laughed Barton. “ I 
aint so sure thet the parson ’s the wust man in 
the world. He’s enuff sight better ’n Felton. 
Still I don’t quite fancy the doctrine he 
preaches.” 


172 Slaying the Dragon. 

MacDuff had been sitting staring stupidly 
at the fire, paying little attention to the conver- ' 
sation, but at this reference to Mr. Strong, he ' 
roused, and a dangerous look came into his 
eyes. 

“ I hates thet man,” he shouted. “ He’s 
a-cheatin’ me out of my rights. He’s been 
a-tryin’ fur years ter git my secret, an’ he dogs 
me round, an’ talks agin me, an’ makes my 
tamily hate me, an’ I wont stand it another day. 
The cussed dog better look arter himself ef he 
don’t want ter git hurt,” and Peter drew an 
ugly looking jack-knife from his pocket, and 
commenced sharpening it on his boot. “ Give 
me another drink, and he threw a silver coin 
on the counter. The glass of liquor was 
eagerly drained, and the effects of it began to 
be manifest. MacDuff raved about the minis- 
ter, and cursed him for ferreting out his secret. 

“ I tell you, boys, the secret ’s mine, an’ the 
parson hed better look out, or I’ll fix him,” and 
the fisherman shook his fist at an imaginary 
antagonist. 1 

“ He ’s crazy as a loon,” said Matthews. 

“ Pete ’s dangerous when he gits like this. 
Ter tell the truth I wouldn’t care ter meet him 
ter-iiight out of the village, ef I was alone. 
He’s gittin’ his jack-knife purty sharp fur some 


The Midnight Adventure, 173 

purpose. I say, Pete, put that knife away. 
Do you mean ter murder your friends ? '' 

An evil light gleamed in the fisherman’s eyes. 
‘‘ I means ter try this blade on thet cussed par- 
son, who is a-tryin’ ter do it. I tell you, boys, 
he ’s a thief. He ’s bin a-tryin’ ter git my 
secret, an’ I b’leeve he ’s got it,” and Peter 
looked anxiously in his overcoat pocket. 

"'‘Vot isch your secret, mein goot friend ? ” 
inquired Carl, in a conciliating voice, his curi- 
osity getting the better of his good sense. 

‘‘ It ’s the tin box of — of— I can’t tell you,” 
shouted the drunken man. ‘‘ What you askin’ 
me fur ? Are you one of the parson’s string ? 
Dog, I’ll kill you ! ” and MacDufif sprang, 
knife in hand, upon the inoffensive German. 

This was carrying matters farther than Land- 
lord Chase desired, and he interfered. ‘‘ If 
you’ve got any fightin’ ter do, MacDufif, you do 
it outside the Maypole. What d’yer mean car- 
ryin’ on in this way ? Git out of here, quick ! ” 

Partially sobered by these words, the fisher- 
man staggered out the door, protesting that he 
meant no harm, but thought he had got hold 
of the parson. 

Do you suppose he means ter assault Mr. 
Strong? ” inquired Steve Barton. 

Oh no,” laughed Chase. ‘‘ Pete ’s a reg’- 


174 Slay mg the Dragon. 

lar fightin’ cock when he ’s full, but I never 
knew him ter do more than threaten.’^ 

The parson's a-bed an' asleep now," added 
Matthews, an' it's time all honest folks were 
home, I think. So, landlord, I will reduce 
your score by one. I declare on it ! Those 
youngsters will play billiards all night, I do 
b’leeve. But it aint none of my bizness. I 
aint their pa." 

In the mean time Mr. Strong had reached 
the Cove and had found Skipper Griffin's 
daughter very low with consumption. It was 
a question whether she would live till morning. 
She was a sweet Christian girl, and had greatly 
endeared herself to her pastor. She had been 
the first-fruits of his labors in Fairport, and to 
her the right hand of fellowship had first been 
given. She had been sick for nearly a year, 
and owing to her physical condition doubts as 
to her conversion and final happiness troubled 
her. She desired to see her pastor once more, 
that his words of faith and courage might help 
to illumine the dark valley which seemed so 
dark to the dying girl. The words of prayer 
had been spoken as few could speak them. 
Arnold Strong was a tower of strength on oc- 
casions like this. Tender, sympathetic, with 
magnetism in his touch, he had soothed the 


The Midnight Adventure, 175 

last hours of many a Christian, and the last 
voice they heard on earth was the voice of 
this faithful under-shepherd. It was so in 
this case. Comforted by her pastor s words 
and prayer, Alice Griffin fell asleep never 
more to waken on earth. 

It was about midnight when Mr. Strong left 
this house of mourning. The night was cold 
and blustering, and not a star relieved the inky 
blackness of the sky. Buttoning his overcoat 
snugly about him, he hurried homeward. A 
low fiendish chuckle close at hand startled him. 
The minister was no coward, but the lateness 
of the hour and the trying ordeal through 
which he had just passed, threw him off his 
balance. Before he had time to turn around a 
blow was dealt him by a powerful hand. It was 
intended to strike his head, but providentially 
it fell upon his shoulder. 

'' IVe got you now, yer cussed dog of a 
parson, an' Fll giv' it ter you. Here's my 
jack-knife, take thet ! " and MacDuff airried an- 
other blow at the minister, but the latter was too 
quick for him, and the weapon only grazed his 
arm. Mr. Strong had not practised wrestling 
and boxing when a collegian in vain. He grap- 
pled with his powerful assailant, ridding him at 
once of his dangerous weapon. The battle 


176 Slaying the Dragon. 

was waged only a brief while. The drunken 
fisherman was no match for the herculean 
muscle and calm brain of the minister. Mac- 
Duff was soon sent reeling to the ground. 

“Are you satisfied?” inquired the minister. 

“ No ! ” yelled the fisherman, in rage and 
mortification. “An’ I’ll be even with you, 
yit.” 

Without wasting any more words upon the 
miserable drunkard, Mr. Strong pursued Ijis 
way without further molestation. As he turn- 
ed down Parsonage Lane, he saw a lamp burn- 
ing for him, and he knew his faithful little wife 
was watching for him. “ God bless her ! ” he 
murmured, a strange giddiness creeping over 
him and benumbing his senses. He opened 
the front door, walked into the sitting-room, 
and then did what he had never done before in 
his life — fainted. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE SOCIETY OF THE SILVER SKULLS. 

“His addiction was to courses vain, 

His companies unlettered, rude, and shallow. 

His hours filled up with riots, banquets, sports.” 

“Oh, what is the matter?” cried Mrs. 
Strong, in alarm, as she caught sight of the 
blood on her husband’s coat, and noted his pal- 
lid face, and half-closed eyes. With a calmness 
phenomenal in a frightened woman, she ran to 
Frank’s room, and rousing the boy, sent him for 
the doctor. After chafing the cold hands and 
bathing the head of the wounded man, she had 
the satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes. 

“Don’t be frightened, wife,” he said, “I’ve 
only got a scratch or two. It’s nothing serious. 
I shall be all right, soon.” 

When Doctor Blake came, he found that the 
minister had received an ugly gash in his 
shoulder. Mr. Strong narrated the circum- 
stances to an indignant group of listeners. 

12 ( 177 ) 


178 Slaying the Dragon. 

“ It was a dastardly act,” said the doctor, 
“ and I hope the coward will be made to smart. 
Things have come to a pretty pass in Fairport, 
if a man can’t speak his mind without being 
assaulted. I shall go immediately to the town 
authorities, and have everything possible done 
to bring MacDuff to speedy punishment.” 

The news of Mr. Strong’s narrow escape 
spread like wild-fire, and great excitement pre- 
vailed. The constables went to arrest the 
fisherman, but MacDuif was not to be found. 
His wife said he had not been home for several 
days. After attacking the minister he was 
seen in the village at one o’clock, and it was 
surmised that he had followed Mr. Strong in 
hopes of assaulting him the second time. 
Riley, who lived in the edge of Essex Woods, 
said that a drunken man went by during the 
night, singing and yelling in a most unearthly 
fashion. Beyond this, no clew could be found. 
Parties went out to search for the missing man, 
with no success. The disappearance of Peter 
MacDuff was a mystery which was not unrav- 
elled till years later. 

The trouble in the church quieted down 
after the parish meeting, and affairs were 
moving with considerable harmony, when, 
some months later, an event occurred which 


The Society of the Silver Skulls. 179 

again aroused righteous indignation. After 
the formation of the St. George League, ten of 
the young rowdies of the village had banded 
themselves together under the name, The 
Society of the Silver Skulls.'' The existence 
of this society was known only to the members, 
and their meetings were held with such secrecy 
that even the vigilant temperance committees 
had not suspected its existence. It originated 
from a dime novel, in the hands of Joe Chase, 
wherein a similar organization, with the same 
hideous appellation, was described in detail. 
Joe was President of the band, and the meet- 
ings were held in old barns or in the battered 
Powder House, and in cold weather in one of 
the back rooms at the Maypole. The Silver 
Skulls flourished during the three years of 
academy life, and now that school-days were 
over for most of these boys, their meetings were 
held with greater frequency. The object of 
this society was to defend the rights of its 
members and to punish those who in any way 
disturbed those said rights. When any mem- 
ber had a grudge against a citizen of Fairport, 
his case was brought before the members of 
the Skulls, tried, and a penalty attached. 
John Chapman claimed that Deacon Ray 
abused him ; accordingly the Deacon's gates 


i8o Slaying the Dragon. 

were all taken off their hinges, carried some 
distance from his house, and left piled in a 
heap. Joe Chase felt that Parson Strong 
didn’t mind his own business, but was trying 
to injure his fatlier’s trade, so the pet cat at 
the parsonage was decoyed from the house 
and poisoned. Peter MacDuff, Junior, said the 
sexton had insulted him, so the bell rope was 
cut one Saturday night. The Skulls now 
met regularly once in two weeks, or oftener, if 
circumstances seemed to demand an extra 
session. 

One night in August a special meeting was 
called by Charlie Chapman. After dark ten 
boys assembled in the shadow of Powder 
House, and after giving the countersign “ skull 
and crossbones,” the meeting was called to 
order by the president. 

“ What is the bizness ter come before this 
meetin’ ? ” he asked, pompously. 

“ I hev a complaint ter make agin Maurice 
Dow,” said Charlie Chapman. 

“ Wal, out with it,” returned the president. 

“ I can’t bear that smooth-faced, lyin’ rascal 
eny' longer,” continued Charlie. “ I hated 
him when I fust sot eyes on him, I hated him 
all the time he staid in school, I hated him 
when Deacon Ray gave him a better job in 


The Society of the Silver Skulls. i8i 

his store than he did me, an’ I hate him now. 
Es if it want enuff for him to walk inter the 
Deacon’s good graces an’ git permoted afore 
me, he hes had the cheek ter blab ter the boss 
thet I was in the tavern the other night, an’ 
got drunk. I know he blabbed it, ’cause the 
Deacon took John an’ me ter task fur it this 
morning, an’ said he should discharge us efthe 
thing happened agin. Thare’s no one in the 
store that would blab, only that white-faced, 
pious Dow. Now I want ter git thet feller 
inter a scrape thet will fix him fur Fairport.” 

“You hev heerd the case, boys. What shall 
we do about it? ” inquired Joe. 

“ We ’ll fix that snivellin’ Dow,” responded 
Peter MacDuff, who was a chip of the old 
block. 

“ Go fur him. Chapman ! Black his eye for 
him ! Put him out the store ! ” cried Paul 
Matthews, Willie Riley, and Tom Barton, to- 
gether. 

“Order! order I One at a time!” called 
out Joe. “This aint no way ter do bizness. 
Those thet ’s in favor of makin’ Dow smart fur 
his doin’s, raise the left hand.” Nine hands 
went up. “ Those agin it, same sign. It’s a 
vote ! Now how shall we trap the coon ? ” 

“ Hev somethin’ stolen from Deacon Ray’s 


1 82 Slaying the Dragon. 

store an’ found in Dow’s pocket,” suggested 
George MacDuff. 

“ Pooh ! ” sniffed the president. “Everybody 
would see that was a put-up job. Dow thinks 
too much of the deacon ter do thet. Try 
agin.” 

“ I’ve got it,” said Charlie Chapman, with 
an evil look in his eyes. “ It ’s a plan which 
we can carry out efwe use great caution. You 
all know thare ’s trouble between Phoebe Dow 
and Jedge Seabury. Maurice knows all about 
it, an’ he hates the Jedge like pisen. I’ve heerd 
dad talk it over lots of times.” 

“ What was the trouble t I never heard 
about it,” interrupted Paul Matthews. 

“ You see the Jedge wanted Maurice, when 
he was a baby, ter come an’ live with him, but 
the Widder Dow wanted to keep the chit, an’ 
so they hed it nip an’ tuck fur a while. Thare ’s 
alius bin feelin’ between these two, ever sence.” 

“ Do give us your plan,” said Peter MacDuff, 
impatiently. “You ’re an awful long-winded 
feller at tellin’ a story.” 

“ Who ’s a better right ter be .slow, I should 
like ter know ? ” growled Charles. “ But es I 
was sayin’, ef some one should set fire ter the 
Jedge’s barn, and the suspicion could be flung 
on Dow, it would be the most nat’ral thing in 


The Society of the Silver Skulls. 183 

the world. People would say thet he was 
workin' out an old grudge. D’ yer see ? ” 

‘‘ First-rate ! You ’re a deep one,” respond- 
ed the boys. 

Pm achin' ter see a blaze,” said Tom Bar- 
ton. “ There haint bin a fire in Fairport sence 
the new injine was bought. It'll give em a 
good chance ter try it. We shall be killin' twp 
birds with one stone.” 

"‘Isn't it a bit resky ter play such tricks? '' 
asked Max Schmidt. 

“ Ho, ho ! So we have a coward in our 
society,'' sneered the president. 

“ Going ter back out ? '' cried Charlie Chap- 
man, lifting his arm threateningly. 

“Oh no, I didn’t mean that at all,” replied 
Max, cringing under the rebukes he received. 
He was not a bad boy at heart, neither were 
Tom Barton, Willie Riley, and Paul Matthews, 
but they were all completely under the influence 
of Joe Chase, and where he led they followed. 

“ Remember, young man,” said the presi- 
dent, severely, “ that the Society of the Silver 
Skulls lies bin known ter issue death warrants. 
So you’d better be keerful how you walk, or 
you will meet the displeasure of the Skulls. 
Now ter bizness. How shall we manage ter 
git Dow inter this scrape ? ” 


184 


Slaying the Dragon. 

“Thet’s easy done,” replied John Chap- 
man. “ Hev one of Dow’s handkerchiefs, 
which are marked with his name, caught in the 
hedge which is back of the Jedge’s barn. Then 
we must manage, some w'ay, ter git his har- 
monica, an’ stow thet where it will be found at 
the right time. We can hev a letter written 
ter the Jedge, tellin’ him he ’d better look after 
his property, es Dow hed bin heerd ter threaten. 
Ef thet letter got ter the Jedge the afternoon 
before the fire broke out, everythin’ would turn 
out es slick es grease. The Jedge would read 
the letter, toss it inter his waste basket, an’ 
think nothin’ more about it till his barn was 
gone up. Then he ’d remember it.” 

“ Grand idea ! ” said Joe, admiringly. 
“ Charlie Chapman, you are an ornament ter 
this society. How soon hed the affair better 
come off? ” 

“ The sooner the better, as far as I ’m con- 
cerned,” replied Charlie. 

“What d’yer say ter to-morrow night?” 
asked Joe. 

“ First-rate,” answered the boys. Farther 
plans were matured, and the meeting was 
adjourned. 

“Remember — to-morrow night — at twelve 
sharp — Powder House.” 


CHAPTER XVIL 


ENTRAPPED. 


“Spin, spin, spin! 

The tiniest thread will do. 

The filmiest thread of the spider’s web 
Will make a net for you. 

W EAVE, weave, weave I 
The fabric with dainty care ; 

The warp and the woof, from all good aloof. 
Will make a tempting snare.” 

Clang 1 clang ! 

The town-house bell gave forth the alarm 
of fire. The citizens of Fairport slept very 
soundly, else they would have started at this 
unusual noise. 

Clang ! clang ! clang ! 

Yes, the alarm has been heard. Several 
watch-dogs begin to bark, and a few half dress- 
ed men and boys are running down the street. 

Ding, dong ! ding, dong ! 

The sexton has pulled the bell rope, and the 
mourntul tones of the churcli-bell mingle with 

m) 


1 86 Slaying the Dragon. 

the harsher ones of the alarm-gong. This 
proves effectual, and the men and boys congre- 
gate, in large numbers, about the new fire- 
engine, and with rapid movements prepare for 
the scene of action. 

“ Where is it ? ” passed the eager inquiry 
from lip to lip. 

“ It’s the academy ! ” said some. But no ! 
There was the old belfry towering above the 
surrounding buildings, and no appearance of 
fire or smoke was visible in that neighborhood. 

“ It’s the Maypole ! ” said another. But 
this story was soon proved to be incorrect. 

“It looks off in the direction of Judge Sea- 
bury’s,” exclaimed Tyler Matthews. 

Yes, Judge Seabury’s barn was afire. The 
flames had already began to leap from the 
windows. Everything was as dry as tinder, 
and the fire had gained considerable headway 
before it was discovered. A smart breeze had 
sprung up from the south-east, and the flames 
w'ere fanned into fiercer heat. The engine 
was speedily equipped for action, and the hose 
was attached to the cistern in the house cellar. 
The fire crackled under the engine, the cylin- 
ders began to work, the joints of the hose 
trembled as the suction forced the water 
through, and the tube became a living thing 


Entrapped, 187 

in the hands of the fireman, requiring his skill 
to guide it aright. A fine stream of water 
was soon playing upon the flames. 

Suddenly a cry of dismay broke from the 
crowd. The water in the cistern has given 
out ! The fireman standing on the ladder, 
with hose in hand, found that the stream of 
water stopped, but he did not realize what the 
difficulty was. 

“ Play away ! Play away ! he shouted, 
as the flames bursting through the window, 
caused him to beat a hasty retreat. The 
hose was put in communication with the well, 
and the impatient order of the fireman was 
obeyed. 

A knot of boys might have been seen on 
the outskirts of the crowd with consternation 
depicted on their faces. 

‘‘ Who'd a thought there would hev been 
sech a breeze,’' whispered Charlie Chapman 
to Joe Chase. 

We’d better a-waited another night, I 
reckon,” was the smothered reply. But we 
must scatter, or we shall be suspected.” A 
loud cry from the bystanders startled the boys. 
The new engine, the pride and joy of the 
town fathers, had failed in this time of need. 
Some part of the machinery had broken, and 


l88 Slaying the Dragon. 

it was a useless hulk, at least as far as the 
present necessity was concerned. 

The barn was nearly consumed, while the 
greedy flames had attacked the out-building 
which stood near the house. The Judge tore 
around like a crazy man in his frantic endeav- 
ors to save his beautiful home. The citizens 
took hold nobly, carrying the water from the 
well in buckets, and pouring it over the roofs 
of the house and the adjoining buildings. 
None were more assiduous in their labors than 
the Chapman boys and Joe Chase. This fact 
was mentioned more than once, and good 
Deacon Ray said that he “ always knew there 
was good in those boys, if it could only be 
reached.” 

All had now been done that could be done 
to save the buildings, and the firemen had 
about given up in despair, when a fresh gust of 
wind brought with it large drops of rain. 
Faster came the drops, and in a few moments 
the rain came down in torrents and the fire 
was effectually quenched. Had it not been 
for this providential interference, all of Judge 
Seabury’s fine buildings must have been con- 
sumed. 

The Judge, grateful for the services of the 
citizens, told Landlord Chase to open the doors 


Entrapped, 189 

of the Maypole and treat the crowd hand- 
somely, and he would cash tlie bill. Three 
lusty cheers for the Judge arose from a hun- 
dred throats, and the crowd dispersed. 

And now the sport is ended. The members 
of the Silver Skulls steal away to their homes, 
feeling quite satisfied with the night’s work. 
The Judge retires, smarting with the sense of 
his injuries, and vowing vengeance upon the 
offender. The citizens go to their homes de- 
termined to investigate this matter, and if pos- 
sible, to break up the clique of youthful marau- 
ders, who have wrought considerable mischief 
during the past season. The rain has ceased. 
The ruins smoulder, and occasionally a jet of 
flame appears, only to be succeeded by puffs 
of smoke. The village is once more wrapped 
in slumber. A double ruin has been accom- 
plished this night — the ruin of a commodious 
building, and the blackening of a reputation ! 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE INVESTIGATION. 

Condemned to stem the wokld’s kijde tide, 

You MAY NOT linger OR ABIDE J 

For rate shall thrust you from the shore, 

And passion ply the sail and oar/^ 

Quite early the next morning, Judge Sea- 
bury was seen walking into Squire Brown's 
office. His appearance indicated great excite- 
ment. 

Guess he 's got an inklin' es ter who sot 
his barn afire/' said Reuben Palmer. ''Poor 
feller! he’ll hev ter smart. The Jedge is orful 
hard on a feller what 's fast in his clutches," and 
Reuben sighed, as he called to mind sundry 
experiences he had had with the Judge. 

" He's a right ter be mad in this case, and 
I hope he will make the scoundrel smart fur 
last night's doin's," replied Tyler Matthews. 

" We intend to make an example of the 

culprit if we find him/' added one of the select- 
(190) 


The Investigation. 191 

men. “ Such proceedings in a respectable 
community are scandalous ! ” 

The Judge now appeared with Constable 
Davis. After a few moments’ conversation the 
former walked rapidly away. The bystanders 
immediately pressed about Davis and ques- 
tioned him in regard to the affair. After 
rousing their curiosity to the highest pitch, the 
constable finally told them that he had a jus- 
tice’s warrant for the arrest of the one who 
was suspected of having set the fire. 

“ Who is it ? ” asked several eager voices. 

“ Maurice Dow ! ” 

In the mean time what had become of young 
Dow ? In order to answer this question we 
must go back to the evening on which the fire 
occurred. Just as he was about to leave the 
store that night, Deacon Ray said to him : 
“You are working too hard at your books, 
Maurice. Do not come back again to-night, 
but take a walk down to the beach and see if 
you cannot get some color into your cheeks.” 

The boy gladly accepted this invitation and 
walked towards home with a lighter heart 
than he had carried for many a day. After 
telling Phoebe that he should not be back till 
quite late, as he was going to take a long walk, 
he started on his favorite walk toward Mag- 


192 Slaying the Di'agon, 

nolia. He reached this beautiful place just as 
the new moon was rising over the waters. 
He strayed far down on the rocks, where he 
could command a fine view of old ocean. The 
scene was truly grand. To the right were the 
bold promontories of Fairport, Beverly and 
Marblehead. To the left was the Reef of 
Norman's Woe, on which so many years ago 
occurred the tragedy which Longfellow has 
made celebrated in his lines : 

It was the schooner Hesperus 
That sailed the wintry sea: 

For the skipper and his little daughter 
Were keeping company. 

He >}« * * s|c Hi 

She struck where the white and fleecy waves 
Looked soft as the carded wool ; 

And the cruel rocks they gored her side 
Like the horns of an angry bull. 

“ Christ save us all from such a death 
On the Reef of Norman^s Woe.^' 

Before him stretched the trackless ocean, to 
him the symbol of majesty and power. Maur- 
ice loved to watch the sea. Whether stormy 
or quiet, it was to him a beautiful panorama 
with wonderful lights and shades and shifting 
scenes. The sound of the waves was music 


The Investigation, 193 

to his ears, whether it came in the mighty roar 
of the tempest, the basso profundo of the 
waves breaking against some cliff, the gentle 
ripple with which they lapped the sides of the 
anchored ship, or the soothing monotone of 
the ebbing tide, all were to him parts of that 
great anthem which has not ceased to roll in 
majesty since ‘‘the morning stars sang together 
at creation’s birth.” 

To-night Maurice had no eye for the gran- 
deur of the scene. He was thinking of the 
mystery which surrounded his birth, which 
seemed likely to hang over his future, and this 
burden seemed greater than he could bear. 

Why was my lot so different from that of 
other boys ? ” he cried bitterly. “ There’s 
Ralph Seabury, surrounded by luxury, his 
every wish gratified, proud family connections, 
while I am a penniless outcast, not owning 
even the name I bear. Oh, it is more than I 
can endure ! ” and the boy covered his face 
with his hands. 

For a long time Maurice wrestled with these 
gloomy thoughts. Then the words came to 
his mind, “ Cast thy burden on the Lord and 
he shall sustain thee.” And with a prayer for 
help the boy rose with another victory gained 
over self and sin. The sea looked so tempt- 

13 


194 


Slaying the Dragon. 

ing that Maurice went down to the boat-house 
and procured a row-boat, and thought to row 
quite a distance around the Point. He had 
not been out half an hour when the wind 
changed, and heavy clouds began to gather 
on the horizon. Accustomed to note these 
danger signals, Maurice immediately rowed to 
the landing, and after taking the boat back, he 
sat down to rest a few moments before starting 
for his long walk home. Fatigued by his ex- 
ertion, he dropped to sleep. He was awakened 
suddenly by the wind which was blowing quite 
a gale, and which swept some dead leaves 
across his face. Hastily striking a match he 
discovered to his surprise that it was about 
eleven o’clock. 

He started for home, and walked at a rapid 
pace. Thinking to shorten the distance a little, 
he cut across Judge Seabury’s orchard, coming 
around back of the barn. Had he been more 
intent on what was around him, he might have 
seen several figures dodging behind the trees 
and fences on the same premises, but neither 
party was aware of the other’s presence. 

Phoebe had left the side door unfastened, 
and Maurice stole quietly to his bed in the loft, 
without waking any one. 

The next morning, just after breakfast, the 


The Investigation. 195 

Kinmon’s were surprised by a knock at the 
door. On opening it, Tom discovered Con- 
stable Davis. This man had never honored 
Tom with a visit, and what brought him here 
now was a question which the honest fisherman 
could not solve. 

“ Good morning, Mr. Kinmon. Is Maurice 
Dow in ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied the fisherman, “but what on 
arth d’ yer want of him ? ” 

“ I am sorry to state,” replied the officer, 
“that I have been sent to serve a warrant 
against the boy, as he is suspected of firing 
Judge Seabury’s barn. I wish to see the boy 
at once.” 

Tom was dumbfounded. It took some time 
for him to grasp so unwelcome a statement. 
At last he stammered, “Thare’s been a terri- 
ble mistake made, a terrible mistake ! Maurice 
is a likely cove, honest an’ square in his deal- 
in’s. He never fired the Jedge’s barn. Come, 
Davis, you’re only chaffin’. You don’t raly 
mean ter arrest the lad ? ” . 

“• I have a warrant to do this very thing,” 
answered Davis, “ and what ’s more, I can’t be 
fooling round here at this rate. Let me see 
the lad.” 

The constable was ushered into the room 


196 Slaying the Dragon. 

where Mrs. Dow and her adopted son were 
sitting. They were a little surprised at their 
visitor’s early call, but having clear consciences, 
neither suspected the Tnan’s errand, until in 
plain language he told his purpose in coming 
to the Cove. The news came like a shock to 
both Phoebe and Maurice. 

“ It is a lie,” cried the boy. “ I never did 
the dastardly thing. It is a contrived plan to 
ruin me.” 

“ Sir, you surely have made a mistake,” said 
Mrs. Dow, with whitening lips. 

“Young man,” pursued the constable, with- 
out heeding Phoebe’s remark, “ did you ever 
see these ? ” taking the handkerchief and har- 
monica from his pocket. _ 

“ Yes sir, they are mine.” 

“ Can you tell me how they came back of 
Judge Seabury’s barn, caught in his hedge? ” 

“ No sir.” 

“ You see,” said Davis, addressing Mrs, 
Dow, “ we don’t arrest folks without some 
evidence. Judge Seabury found these him- 
self back of his barn this morning, and he de- 
sires this matter to be investigated. It now 
becomes my duty to take this young man with 
me. If he’s innocent all he’s got to do is to 
tell a straight story.” 


197 


The Investigation. 

Mrs. Dow came forward, and taking her 
Bible, said to Maurice, “ Can you place your 
hand on God’s Holy Book, and say, I am inno- 
cent ? ” 

“ Yes, mother,” replied the lad, looking into 
her face with clear, honest eyes. 

“ I am satisfied,” replied his foster-mother. 

“ Go now, my son, and fear nothing. The 
truth will appear sooner or later.” 

Great excitement prevailed in the village 
when the news went from lip to lip that young 
Dow was arrested for arson. Some scouted- 
the idea as absurd ; others declared that 
“they had never liked the boy, and had known 
from the beginning that his bad blood would 
show itself in time.” 

Maurice was taken to Squire Brown’s office, 
and the latter proceeded to question him in the ^ 
presence of Judge Seabury. 

“Well Dow, where were you last night?” 

“ I took a walk to Magnolia, sir.” 

“ Did you go by way of the road or across 
lots ? ” 

“ By the highway, sir.” 

“ What time was it when you reached Mag- 
nolia ? ” 

“ About half-past eight,” 

“ What did you do while there ? ” 


iqS Slaying the Dragon. 

“ I walked awhile on the beach, and then 
took a row boat and went out a little way.” 

“What time was it when you came off the 
water ? ” 

“ About ten, I should think.” 

“ What time did you start for home ? ” 

“A little after eleven, sir.” 

“ What were you doing from ten to elev* 
en ? ” 

“ I sat down in the boat house to rest and 
being tired I dropped to sleep.” 

“ What time did you reach Fairport vil- 
lage ? ” 

“ About twelve, sir.” 

“Did you go home by way of the road or 
did you go across lots ? ” 

“ I cut across the fields, sir.” 

“ Did you go through Judge Seabury’s or- 
chard ? ” 

“ I did, sir.” 

“ Can you tell us how these articles came 
caught in the hedge back of the Judge’s barn ? ” 
producing the handkerchief with the boy’s 
name marked thereon, and the harmonica. 

“ No, sir.” 

“Tut, tut, lad! Tell the truth now. It 
will fare easier with you if you make a clean 
breast of the whole matter. Things look very 


The hivestigation, 199 

suspicious, as you see. If you confess at once 
I am sure the Judge will be considerate.” 

“ I have nothing to confess ; ” and Maurice 
drew himself up proudly. '' How these arti- 
cles of mine came where they were found is a 
mystery to me. But this I do know, other 
hands than mine did this wicked deed. I have 
said all I can, or shall say.” 

Do you intend to deny this thing, or are 
you going to confess ? ” cried Judge Seabury, 
in a passion at what he deemed the boy s 
obstinacy. 

I have told you all I know in regard to the 
matter,” replied Maurice. 

‘'Then the law shall take its course,” said 
the Judge. “I intend to catch the rascal who 
fired my barn, and make an example of him.” 

“ One month from to-day,” said Squire 
Brown, “ the court meets at Salem. I will 
bind this young man over to that court” 

Deacon Ray kindly furnished the necessary 
bail, and Maurice was dismissed from the pres- 
ence of these gentlemen ; and it was with a 
heeivy heart that he plodded his way home. 
The case looked dark, and all the circumstances 
were against him. He felt sure that he was 
the victim of a plot, but he saw no way to 
prove this satisfactorily, and thus extricate him- 


200 Slaying the Dragon. 

self from the difficulty. In this time of sore 
need the lad found strong friends. Deacon 
Ray grasped his hand, and said, “ My boy, I 
believe you because you have never told me a 
lie. Let me see you in your accustomed place 
in the store.” 

Mr. Strong also told him to keep up good 
courage, and time would prove his innocence. 
The St. George League opened its doors to 
receive him as of old, and nearly all its mem- 
bers treated him with cordiality. Notwith- 
standing all this, Maurice grew pale and anx- 
ious as the month rapidly slipped away, and 
no solution was found to the mystery. 

During this month of suspense, Tom Kin- 
mon was not idle. He suspected foul play, and 
he determined, if possible, to ferret out the real 
culprit, and clear Maurice from suspicion. He 
talked the matter over with Rob, and after 
finding out what boys disliked young Dow, 
he commenced to watch these boys with the 
sagacity of a detective. 

One day, as he was down on the rocks, pre- 
paring to cast his line for cunners, he heard 
the sound of voices. Peering cautiously over 
a large boulder, he saw Peter and George 
MacDuff lower down on the rocks, engaged in 
the same pursuit. To creep nearer the boys. 


The Investigation, 201 

in order that he might listen to their conversa- 
tion unobserved, was the work of a moment. 

‘‘ Now drive ahead, my hearties ! '' muttered 
the old fisherman, with one of his silent laughs. 
‘‘ P’r’aps you dl leak out somethin* *bout the 
fire. Anyhow, *taint no harm ter listen.** 


CHAPTER XIX. 


TOM KINMON AS EAVESDROPPER. 

“Be sure tour sin will find you out.” 

“It’s no good a-fishin’ here,” said George 
MacDufif to his brother, as he cast his line im- 
patiently into the little whirlpool at his feet. 

“’Tis, too,” replied Peter, holding up a 
handsome rock-cod, its scales glistening as they 
caught the sunlight. “Jest mind this beauty ! 
He ’ll weigh four pounds, sure. These fellers 
can only be caught in holes like this, where 
the water runs swift. Hist ! you Ve got a bite, 
sure ’s fate ! George, out ! Aint he a lusty 
feller ! ” he added, as his brother took a large 
cunner from the hook. “ This is the place ter 
fish, an’ don’t you forgit it.” 

Silence reigned for some minutes. Then 
George broke forth again. “ I say, it ’s too 
bad ! ” 

“ What ’s too bad ? ” queried his brother. 

“ Thet Dow hes got ter suffer fur what he 
never did.” 

( 202 ) 


Tom Kimnon as Eavesdropper. 203 

“ Hist, George ! The rocks hev ears some- 
times,” and Peter cast furtive glances around. 

“There’s nobody ter hear,” said George, 
also looking around. “ We ’re early birds, this 
morning, an’ none of the fishermen are out 
here, yet.” 

“ I don’t care fur any on ’em but Tom,” said 
Peter, as he again surveyed his surroundings, 
anxiously. “ He’s alius a-peekin’ round when 
you don’t know it.” 

“Oh bosh! What you afeared of?” and 
George regarded his brother with a contempt- 
uous air. 

“ Wal, I wouldn’t say nothin’ more about it,” 
and Peter resumed his fishing. 

“ When ’s the next meetin’ of the Skulls ? ” 
inquired George. 

“ Next Wednesday night, at Powder Ho"se. 
Joe said we’d be sure ter hev some fun thet 
night, an’ he hinted es ter how he would per- 
vide a treat. Charlie Chapman is in fine spir- 
its, ’cause the plan worked so well.” 

“ Chapman ’s quite a crack feller ; don’t you 
think so ? ” 

“Yes, I do. He’s jest es smart es a steel- 
trap, too. Plays lots o' games on old Ray, 
and the old chap don’t know it. Charlie ken 
appear jest es quiet es a lamb when he ’s got 


204 


Slaying the Dragon. 

an axe ter grind, an’ he pulls the wool over 
the old man’s eyes, I tell yer ! ” and Peter 
laughed aloud at the remembrance of what he 
had seen and heard. 

“ Joe ’s purty smart, too,” said George. 
“ He makes a fust-class president of our society. 
The boys all like him, an’ they do jest es he 
says. He ’s bin round in different places visit- 
in’, a% he’s got ideas ’bout runnin’ the thing. 
I guess we ’ve got es good a society es the St. 
George League, ef a parson does run it.” 

“You’re right!” replied Peter. “Guess 
we ’d better be gittin’ home, now, ef we calcu- 
late ter hev fish fur breakfast,” and he put up 
his fishing tackle, and swung his string of fish 
over his shoulder. 

Tom Kinmon curled into a small compass, 
scarcely daring to breathe for fear of discovery, 
while the boys clambered from rock to rock. 
Once, the boys came so near him that he could 
have touched them with his hand. As they 
disappeared over the brow of the hill, Tom 
raised himself out of his cramped position, and 
gave another of his silent laughs, and swung 
his cap in the air. 

“ We’ll attend the next meetin’ of the Skulls, 
so we will, my hearties, an’ we’ll bring a few 
friends with us too. Ha ! ha I my young 


Tom Khimo^i as Eavesdropper. 205 

sculpins. I guess we^l hev a stop put ter 
some of your gimcracks. Your leetle game is 
'bout played out." 

Tom made no allusion to his adventure, but 
attended to his customary duties. ‘"'Taint no 
use raisin' their hopes on what is yet so onsar- 
tin," he thought. “Time enuff ter crow when 
I git those young chaps by the neck. Wont I 
shake them, though ! " and Tom rubbed his 
hands gleefully. 

Maurice pursued his daily work at the store, 
and three evenings in the week he recited to 
Mr. Strong. It had been his ambition to enter 
college another year, but his courage had now 
deserted him. It was only by the encourage- 
ment of friends that he kept up during this trial. 

It was quite an event for Tom to be away 
from home evenings, but Monday night and 
Tuesday night he was out quite late. He 
gave no explanation for his strange conduct, 
but when Wednesday night, at dusk, he took 
his cap and prepared to leave, his wife expos- 
tulated. 

“Sure lad, you don't mean ter leave me 
agin ter-night ? You don't seem quite like 
yourself of late. You aint sick, be you, Tom ? " 
and Janet looked anxiously into her husband's 
rugged face. 


2 o 6 Slaying the Dragon. 

“ Don’t you go ter worritin’ ’bout me, wife. 
Tom K.’s all right, but what he wants ter do is 
ter hev the boy in the other room thare all 
right, so I be out gittin’ what information I can. 
I guess ter night will be the last time I shall 
go skylarkin.’ D’yersee?” 

“Oh Tom, you’ve gotjist the biggest heart. 
You’re bound ter help the weak an’ those es 
has no friends.” 

“ Wal wife, aint thet one way of bearin’ other 
folkes burdens ? You know I promised ’fore 
angels an’ men ter do this very thing.” 

“Yes, I know, Tom, an’ you’ve kept your 
word faithfully.” 

Tom did not go alone to Powder House. 
Mr. Strong, Constables Davis and Parker and 
Deacon Ray went at different times to the 
place designated. Concealed in the over- 
hanging bushes, they witnessed the proceed- 
ing of the Silver Skulls, a society of whose 
existence they had been ignorant until the 
keen wits of Tom Kinmon had exposed it, 

A large boulder, called Mountain Rock, 
formed a grand rendezvous for the young 
roughs. Rehind this rock ten boys were seat- 
ed, most of them with cigars or cigarettes in 
their mouths. Joe Chase was spokesman, as 
usual, and dictated the crowd. 


Tom Kinmon as Eavesdropper. 207 

“ Come, boys, what do you say to a game 
of poker ? ” and he took a pack of greasy cards 
from his pocket. 

'• Good ! good ! ” cried a chorus of voices. 

Peter MacDuff lighted the lantern he had 
brought, and the game began. After all the 
loose change the boys had, had found its way 
into Joe’s pocket, the president grew tired of 
the game, and said, “ Now, boys, fur the treat 
I promised you ! ” and he proceeded to uncork 
two bottles. 

“ Here ’s some prime lager beer fur them es 
don’t like somethin’ stronger, but John and 
Charlie think, with me, thet the other bottle is 
the best.” 

The bottles were then passed around, and 
their contents eagerly swallowed. 

When Joe had mentioned his treat, Mr. 
Strong desired at once to interfere, before the 
lads had drank, but Constable Davis said, 
“By no means do this. We shall lose what 
we came to hear, namely, who fired Judge 
Seabury’s barn. Be patient, sir.” 

Nor did they have long to wait. The sub- 
ject of the fire was uppermost in the minds of 
the boys, and the matter was soon under dis- 
cussion. 

“ We did a purty good stroke of business 


2o8 


Slaying the Dragon. 

that night,” said Joe, rubbing his hands. 
“ Charlie Chapman deserves a premium fur 
thinkin’ up so smart a job.” 

“ I think I deserve a leetle credit,” replied 
Peter MacDuff. “ Those pesky old matches 
you giv me were hard ter light. I used a 
whole card ’fore I could strike a blaze.” 

“ Oh yes, you did fust-rate,” and the presi- 
dent beamed upon his apprentice. “You’ll 
git permoted ter a high rank in this society, 
yet.” 

“ I guess that sneakin’ Dow wont dare ter 
peep agin,” said Charlie Chapman. “ I guess 
I’ve fixed him fur Fairport.” 

“ There’s bin no suspicion es ter who set the 
fire,” added John Chapman. “ People gener- 
ally b’leeve thet Dow did it, an’ I think the 
Jedge thinks so, too.” 

“ Dow’s month is most up,” said George 
MacDuff, “ an’ then I spose they’ll hev ter de- 
cide somethin’. But they can’t prove nothin’ 
agin him, ’cause he’s bin an honest lad.” 

“ He’s bin a sneakin’, lyin’ rascal, you 
mean,” interrupted Charlie, casting a fierce 
look at the speaker. “ Don’t any of you begin 
ter Stan’ up fur the scamp, or I’ll make you 
smart.” 

“ Dow will suffer whether he goes ter jail 


Tom Kinmon as Eavesdropper, 209 

or not/' said Joe. ^^Some folks will alius sus- 
pect him, an' Dow can't bear that, you know, 
he's so proud. Chapman hes got what he 
wanted, even if Dow continues ter walk these 
streets. His name is furever blackened." 

“ I guess old Ray wont trust him quite so 
much es he has," continued Charlie, though 
I was surprised thet he let the boy come back 
inter the store at all. I don't see what there 
is 'bout that white-faced foundling that makes 
folks rave 'bout him. You'd think there never 
was sech a chap, ter hear Ray or the parson 
talk." 

‘'The Jedge was awful mad ter lose his 
barn," spoke Willie Riley, for the first time. 
“ He declared he would do some dreadful 
thing if he found the scoundrel. People say 
that he dqn’t like Maurice Dow, and wouldn't 
care much if he was proved guilty." 

“ Why should he ? " exclaimed Peter. 
“Dow's nothin' but an outcast that nobody 
would miss ef he should go away from here in 
disgrace. He’s got no spunk. Was alius 
porin' over a book. Bah ! " With a gesture 
of contempt the lad squirted tobacco juice from 
a large quid in his mouth. 

“ It was a bold thing fur the Skulls ter do," 
said Joe, “but we did it, an' brought lastin' 

14 


210 


Slaying the Dragon. 

honor ter perch on our banners. But we’ll 
hev ter be cautious in the future so diet no one 
need ter suspect us.” 

“ That you will, you young scamps!” shouted 
Constable Davis, as he sprang forward and 
seized Joe Chase by the collar. His compan- 
ions followed suit. Tom seized Charlie Chap- 
man and Peter MacDuff in his strong grasp. 
Constable Parker took John Chapman and 
George MacDuff in tow. The other boys 
were too frightened to resist, and followed 
Deacon Ray and Mr. Strong without trying 
to run away. The ringleaders were put into 
the lock-up for the night, while the remainder 
were waited on by the constables to their 
homes, each promising to appear before a trial 
justice the next morning. 

Willie Riley, Steve Barton and George Mac- 
Duff owned their share in the proceedings 
and implicated the rest. The matter assumed 
such serious proportions that the case was 
carried to the Superior Court, which convened 
the following week at Salem. 




Where we but see the darkness of the mine, 

God sees the diamond shine. 

Where we can only clustering leaves behold, 

He sees the buds they fold. 

Dark is the glass through which we see each other, 
We may not judge a brother. 

We only see the rude and outer strife ; 

God knows the inner life. 

Where we our voice in condemnation raise, 

God may see fit to praise ; 

And those from whom, like Pharisees, we shrink. 
With Christ may eat and drink. 


( 212 ) 


CHAPTER XX. 


REAPING THE WHIRLWIND. 

^‘Though the mills of God grind slowly, 

Yet they grind exceeding small, 

Though with patience stands He waiting, 
With exactness grinds He all.^^ 

Deacon Chapman witnessed the disgrace 
of his two sons with strong emotion. Al- 
though he had been a harsh father and had 
neglected his children, he had a father's heart 
for his offspring. Show mercy ter my boys," 
he broke forth, during the trial. '' They're 
young, yer know." 

Judge Seabury looked sharply at the Dea- 
con. ‘‘Your sons are just what you made 
them, and you are only reaping what you have 
sown." 

Strange words to come from this man's lips. 
Little did he dream, as he was casting this 
stone at his neighbor, that its crushing weight 
would soon fall upon his own head and bring 

( 213 ) 


214 Slaying the Dragon. 

him to the ground, overwhelmed with sorrow 
and remorse. 

Maurice Dow was publicly exonerated from 
all blame, and a purse was immediately made 
up for him sufficient to defray his expenses for 
one year in Dummer Academy. 

Wild with grief and anxiety. Deacon Chap- 
man sought the minister, to see if anything 
could be done to avert the stern decree of the 
law. “ Oh parson, can’t yer help my boys ? ” 
he pleaded with tears in his eyes. “ I know 
I’ve treated yer awful mean, but I’m sorry.” 

Mr. Strong took the old man’s hand and said 
gently, My friend, all that I can do shall be 
done, but you know tliat Judge Seabury will 
not listen to me favorably. He cherishes bit- 
ter feelings toward me.” 

The deacon groaned and turned away. 
Well did he remember all he had done to fos- 
ter such feelings in the mind of the Judge. 
His punishment had been swift and terrible, 
but he could not but admit it was a just pen- 
alty for his sin. 

Kind-hearted friends did what they could to 
make the sentence as light as possible for the 
culprits. Joe Chase, Charlie Chapman and 
Peter MacDuff were sentenced to one year in 
the House of Correction, while the other boys 


Reaping the Whirlwind. 215 

were released after paying suitable fines. 
The Society of the Silver Skulls was effectu- 
ally broken up, and the boys in Fairport were 
taught a lasting lesson. 

How fares it with Judge Seabury ? Is he 
still continuing in his evil course and riding on 
the high seas of prosperity ? Nay ! the arrow 
which is to pierce his heart is already speeding 
on its way, and the mighty are surely to be 
brought low. 

Three years have passed since Ralph Sea- 
bury went away to school, and many favorable 
reports have been sent to his home during 
this time. Mr. Felton visited him several 
times during this period, and came away satis- 
fied with his nephew’s progress. But how 
was it really, with the Judge’s son ? 

One rainy night late in the autumn, as Mrs. 
Dow and Maurice were coming home from 
prayer-meeting, they heard a groan. As they 
had reached the loneliest part of the walk and 
the sound came unexpectedly, it was no won- 
der that both were startled. 

“ Who is there ? ” cried Maurice. 

“ For heaven’s sake give me a shelter to- 
night. I’m sick and faint.” 

Phoebe crept up close to the rock and saw 
a prostrate figure. A ray of light from a 


2 i 6 Slaying the Dragon, 

street lamp fell upon the young man’s face. 
She gave a cry of horror at the sight. It was 
Ralph Seabury ! 

Pale, haggard, with wild, staring eyes, and 
marks of dissipation stamped on every feature, 
Ralph Seabury lay there a miserable wreck. 

“ I’m in pecks of trouble,” he said, raising 
himself with difficulty. “ Don’t turn a cold 
shoulder on me this wretched night.” 

“ My poor boy,” replied Mrs. Dow, “ I am 
your friend. You can trust me. Maurice, 
run and ask Tom to help us. We will soon 
have this sick boy comfortable.” 

“ Poor little cove !” exclaimed the kind- 
hearted Tom, as he appeared without delay 
on the scene. 

“ He’s grounded, sure ’s fate ; but, please 
God, we’ll pull him off the sands and have him 
agoin’ agin with sails set an’ colors flyin’. 
Steady now, my hearty ! There you are now, 
in sight of a warm fire. Keep a stiff upper 
lip, an’ we’ll land ye safe. With encouraging 
words like these the young man reached Mrs. 
Kinmon’s cosy kitchen, and after donning a 
suit of Tom’s clothes, he laid down on the 
lounge before the fire. 

“ Can’t yer eat a wee bit of this toast an’ 
drink yer coffee ?” asked Janet, bending over 


Reaping the Whirlwind. 217 

the lounge anxiously. “ It ’ll do yer good.” 

“Oh no,” said the young man. “ I don’t 
care whether anything does me good or not. 
I’ve disgraced the Seabury name, and father 
will be fearfully angry, and justly so. 

“ Twice I’ve broken the rules of the school 
and gone on a drunk, and this time I was ex- 
pelled. The boys shielded me the first time, 
and father never knew of it. But he’ll know 
it now fast enough. I don’t know how I came 
to be where you found me,” and the young 
man turned wearily away. “ How my head 
does ache, and the chills creep over me. It’s 
father’s blame. He drank, and so did Uncle 
Phineas.” 

“ Calm yourself, Ralph,” said Mrs. Dow, as 
she noted how feverish the young man grew, 
and felt his rapid pulse. The pressure of her 
cool hand on his forehead seemed to quiet him, 
and he sank into a heavy sleep. 

“ Land o’ Goshen ! ” ejaculated Tom, as soon 
as the deep breathing indicated that Ralph 
was sleeping. Things do turn out wonderful 
strange. Pr’aps the Lord has got suthin’ in 
his mind ’bout all this. ’T wouldn’t be at 
all strange ef he sent the young cove here. 
But I reckon ther Jedge will fetch him away 
as quick as he finds out. Poor little cove,” con- 


2i8 Slaying the Dragon. 

tinued Tom, as he looked widi great compas- 
sion on Ralph’s face. “ How could he be eny 
better with a stepmother, an’ sech a high-tem- 
pered father ? He’s got a stormy sea ter sail 
on. Unless he gets in sight of the light-house 
he’ll steer straight for some reef an’ go under.” 

“ It is only right,” said Phoebe, drawing her 
shawl over her shoulders, “that Judge Sea- 
bury be informed at once of his son’s presence 
in our house. The boy is threatened strongly 
with fever, and the sooner he can have medical 
advice, the better. I do not feel that it would 
be right for us to call a doctor, as the Judge 
employs Dr. Slocum and we do not.” 

“ Humph,” growled Tom. “ Slocum will 
dose him with pisonous drugs. Doctor Blake, 
our new man, uses water an’ yarbs. He’s the 
man fur Tom Kinmon. But let me go, 
Phoebe, ’tis sech a dark night. Shan’t yer be 
afraid ? ” 

“ Oh no, Tom. Every one in town knows 
me, and I don’t think any one will hurt me. It 
is best that I should go. I feel that God has 
a message which he wants me to deliver to 
that unhappy man.” 

“The Lord go with yer,” replied Tom, with 
unwonted solemnity of manner. 

Phoebe turned around and looked at the 


Reaping the Whirlwind, 219 

fisherman sharply. ‘'Tom, I believe you are 
a Christian. You seem different of late.’' 

Oh, how yer du talk,’^ replied Tom, in his 
gruff way, yet looking pleased at the remark. 
“ I aint no kind of a Christian an’ never made 
eny perfessions to be sich, but I will own up 
I’ve bin intrested in religion ever sence the 
parson preached his sarmon last communion. 
That sarmon jist hit me all around. Ef I 
dodged one way he slung out another argu- 
ment thet hit me on the other side. The par- 
son come down on us to carry other folks 
burdens, an’ so be like as the Lord was. Wal, 
when he launched his craft I didn’t pay much 
notice, but kept a-sayin’ to myself; ‘ I’ve got 
enough to do to look arter my own self an’ 
family, without a luggin’ burdens fur the hull 
town ;’ but fore the parson hed sailed half way 
through I could see land, an’ you could hev 
knocked me down with a feather. I see jest 
what he meant. Sum folks, Phoebe, is like 
pigs ; they don’t care fur nothin’ outside their 
own trough. Sech folks are a curse ter eny 
town. Instid of helpin’ a poor feller along 
they jist give him a kick which sends him fur- 
ther down then he was at the start. Now I’ve 
bin a-tryin’ to help folks bear their burdens, 
an’ so in a poor way ter be, as the good Lord 


220 


Slaying the Dragon. 

was ; but as to bein’ a Christian, I don’t make 
eny perfession.” 

“ My good friend,” said Mrs. Dow, grasping 
the fisherman’s rough hand, “ you are one of 
the Lord’s own, whether you think so or not. 
‘ By their fruits ye shall know them,’ said 
Jesus. Keep on with your burden-bearing, 
and you will be walking in the footsteps of the 
perfect One. Go and tell pastor Strong of 
your feelings. It will encourage him to know 
that his words have helped you, and the poor 
man is sadly in need of encouragement.” 

“Wal, Phoebe, the parson haint a better 
friend in the parish then I be, tho’ ’taint my 
way ter keep a-runnin’ ter him an’ tellin’ him 
ont. Still, I’ve bin a thinkin’ that I should go 
down an’ see him, when the right time comes. 
Wal, good luck ter yer ! Don’t mind what 
the Jedge says. He’ll be pretty peppery, but 
never mind.” 

A smaller nature than Phoebe Dow’s would 
have rejoiced at an opportunity to take 
revenge upon one who had treated her so 
harshly, but no such feelings filled her heart. 
She was sorry for the proud old man whose 
punishment had fallen so heavily upon his 
head. He had sown to the wind, and he was 
now reaping the whirlwind. It was towards 


Reaping the Whirlwind. 221 

morning when Phoebe climbed the steps to the 
Seabury mansion. She pulled the bell, and 
the peal resounded through the house. Lights 
began to flicker in different portions of the 
building. Phil, the colored servant, opened 
the door. 

Tell your master that some one desires to 
speak with him immediately.” 

I dassent tell him, ’cause he’s heerd suthin’ 
drefful, an’ he’s bin stampin’ ’cross the libry 
floor all de night. Oh, missus, I dassent do 
it,” and the darkey’s eyes rolled, and his teeth 
chattered. 

Knock at the door then and give him this 
note,” and Mrs. Dow handed the boy a slip of 
paper which she had prepared, in case of an 
emergency, on which was written : 


.-I 

boy. 


have imperative summons from your 
'' Phoebe Dow.” 


The darkey hastened to do her bidding. 
The effect was like magic. The library door 
opened, and a haggard looking man beckoned 
Mrs. Dow to enter. 

I suppose you have come like an avenging 
Nemesis to torment me in my misery,” said 
the old man, bitterly. “Tell me quick about 


222 


Slaying the Dragon. 

my boy, and then leave me. Your presence at 
this time is hateful to me.’’ 

Unmindful of the ingratitude shown her by 
the man whose son she had befriended, Phoebe 
told her story in a simple straightforward 
manner, and then said, “ I will care for your 
son during his sickness if you have any diffi- 
culty in finding a nurse.” 

The Judge motioned her away with his 
hand. “ I will not trouble you to nurse my 
son. The carriage will be sent for him im- 
mediately. I suppose you desire some recom- 
pense for you services. Go back to your old 
home, and you shall have the rent of the cot- 
tage from henceforth. It shall never be said 
that a Seabury allowed a debt to go unpaid.” 

The indignant blood mounted to Phoebe’s 
cheeks at these insulting words, and for a 
moment she was tempted to answer the 
Judge as he deserved. But when she saw the 
anguish depicted on his face and realized how 
deep the wound must be, she restrained herself 
and replied gently : 

“ If at any time you have need of my ser- 
vices you liave only to command me. May 
God comfort and help you,” and went her way. 

Ralph Seabury was carried delirious to 
his father’s house, and Doctor Slocum was 


Reaping the Whirlwind, 223 

summoned. The fat old doctor shook his 
head gravely when he saw his patient. ‘'A 
doubtful case/' he muttered to himself. ''We 
shall pull him through all right/’ to Judge 
Seabury. 

The people in Fairport were afraid of the 
fever, and no one was willing to nurse the boy. 
After a long search the Judge brought a wo- 
man from Salem who was willing to undertake 
the task. Ralph Avas a hard patient to man- 
age, for the fever made him wild. The sight 
of his father irritated him beyond measure. 
" Go away,” he would cry, putting his hands 
over his eyes as though to shut out the sight. 
" You made me what I am. Go away, it’s a 
devil I see ! ” At another time he would 
smack his lips and mutter, " Ha ! that’s prime. 
Father keeps the genuine article.” 

Judge Seabury remained in his library most 
of the time. His meals were brought to him, 
but they were carried away uniasted. A deep 
remorse filled his soul at the sight of Ids boy’s 
ruin. The servants shook their heads as they 
spoke of him to outsiders. 

'''Master takes it to heart dreadful,” they 
said. " What a wicked boy, to disgrace his 
father thus.” 

But was Ralph Seabury to blame ? 


Look out in yonder harbor and see the pretty 
sail- boat safely moored to the shore ! What a trim 
little craft she is ! How gay she looks in her holiday 
attire as she dances up and down on every wave, 
her whole frame quivering with life ! How she tugs 
against the cable, as though eager to follow the ebb- 
ing tide ! A cruel hand loosens the craft from its 
moorings, and away she bounds with reckless speed 
over the waters. At last she dashes against a reef 
and is wrecked. His be the loss who unloosed the 
cable and sent the frail craft adrift ! But that will 
not save the pretty boat ! It might have been a 
thing of lasting joy and beauty. But now it is a 
wreck. 


( 224 ) 


CHAPTER XXL 


ST. GEORGE KNIGHTS. 

Never are ejnd acts done 
To WIPE THE WEEPING EYES, 

But like flashes of the sun, 

They signal to the skies ; 

And up above the angels read 

How WE HAVE HELPED THE SORER NEED.^^ 

Burton, 

There came a day when Doctor Slocum 
admitted that he had done all he could for the 
young man, and asked for a consultation. 
Three physicians from Salem came to Fair- 
port. They shook their heads gravely, as 
they made a diagnosis of the case. The sub- 
stance of their conference was that dissipation 
had weakened the young man's constitution 
and his life hung upon a thread. Another 
night would be the crisal point in the disease. 

Mrs. Seabury had taken Olive and gone to 
• her friends at the beginning of Ralph’s sick- 
ness. The step-mother had no love for the 

15 ( 225 ) 


2 26 Slaying the Dragon. 

sick boy. Hers was a shallow nature. She 
seldom looked beyond her own selfish interests. 
So it happened that the vigil around Ralph’s 
bedside was kept by the nurse, the doctor, Mr. 
Felton and the Judge. 

For eight weeks the fever had raged, and that 
pale, wasted figure yonder would hardly have 
been recognized as the handsome Ralph Sea- 
bury. The hours passed slowly. The mo- 
ments seemed like ages to the unhappy father 
and uncle, as they realized that another hour 
would s^l the boy’s fate. The hands of the 
clock pointed to the hour of midnight, and still 
the young man lay in a death-like stupor. At 
last he moved slightly and opened his eyes. 

“Where am I? What’s the matter?” he 
inquired, in a feeble voice. 

“You have been very sick, an’ now you 
must go to sleep,” said the nurse, bending over 
him. Ralph seemed satisfied with this expla- 
nation and fell into a natural slumber. 

“ The crisis is past, and your son will live,” 
said Doctor Slocum. 

Mr. Felton’s face worked convulsively, and 
he left the room to hide his emotion. The 
Judge bowed in acquiescence, while something 
suggestive of a tear glittered in his cold, gray 
eyes. 


227 


St George Knights. 

The news of Ralph Seabury’s convalescence 
spread through the village, and many com- 
ments were passed upon the fact by the 
gossips of Fairport. “ Should think his son’s 
disgrace would humble the Judge,” said 
one. 

“ It wa’nt no more typhoid fever than mea- 
sles is typhoid fever. ’Twas a clear case of 
delirium tremens,” said another. 

“Guess the Judge will advocate temperance 
reform now,” chuckled a third. 

In some respects Judge Seabury was a 
changed man. He had passed through a bit- 
ter experience and had been confronted by 
wholesome truths. He realized that his 
method of training his son had been a failure, 
and that he was in part to blame for the dis- 
grace which had attached to the name of Sea- 
bury. But the man was not yet humble. He 
had taken a certain stand before the commu- 
nity, and he was too proud to say, ‘‘ I was mis- 
taken/' He resolved to remove all liquors 
from his table, so that his son should not meet 
temptation there, but as to clearing out his 
wine cellar, he could not, and he would not. 
His daily glass or two had become indispen- 
sable to his comfort, Mr. Felton reasoned in 
much the same way. 


2 28 Slaying the Dragon. 

To the world the Judge carried himself with 
the same arrogance which made him so un- 
popular to many. Few dared approach him 
on the subject of Ralph’s recent illness. Mr. 
Strong felt it his duty to visit the old man, and 
see if he would not now lend his influence in 
aiding temperance work in Fairport. As he 
had called nearly every day to inquire after 
the sick boy, he felt that, at least, he was en- 
titled to courteous treatment. But he was bit- 
terly disappointed. The Judge met him with 
a haughty, repellant air, and refused flatly to 
take any different stand on the temperance 
question. 

“ I have chosen my course, Mr. Strong, and 
desire no interference on your part, I do not 
dictate what my neighbors must believe, and I 
wish no one to dictate to me. 

With a sad heart, the minister took his de- 
parture, 

“ And must Ralph Seabury be sacrificed ? ” 
he cried. 

Meeting the young man as he was walk- 
ing out for the first time since his illness, he in- 
vited him into the parsonage to rest. The in- 
vitation was accepted, and the two fell into 
pleasant conversation. The subject of Ralph’s 
terrible sickness was not broached until the 


S^. George Knights. 229 

young man, of his own accord, turned to Mr. 
Strong, and said frankly : 

“You must know the cause of my recent 
sickness. Now, Mr. Strong, what can I do to 
overcome my appetite for liquor ? ” 

“ My dear fellow,” replied the minister, grasp- 
ing Ralph’s hand, “I thank God that you have 
asked me this question. Take the total absti- 
nence pledge, and determine, with God’s help^ 
to keep it, and I am confident that you will 
have strength given you to resist the tempter. 
There is no other safe ground for you or for 
any one. Will you do this ? Or, do not de- 
cide now, but think the matter over, and come 
next Wednesday evening to the meeting of the 
St. George League and there decide. We are 
expecting to receive some new members that 
night, and you may be interested to see what 
the pledge has done for some of the worst men 
in Fairport.” 

Ralph thanked the minister for his words, 
and promised to attend the meeting. Mr, 
Strong prayed as he had never prayed before 
that this young man might be rescued from the 
dragon’s clutches ; still his faith was not strong 
enough to believe that Ralph Seabury would 
really attend the meeting. 

But sure enough, the young man was there 


230 Slaying the Dragon. 

at the time appointed, sitting in the rear of the 
hall. It was “ pledge night,” and a speaker 
from Salem had been secured to address the 
League on the subject of “ Intemperance and 
\ts Remedy.” The gentleman was a ready 
speaker, full of eloquence, pathos and argu- 
ment. He spoke from the depths of a bitter 
experience, and his words had a powerful effect 
upon his audience. Mr. Strong followed with 
a few stirring, gospel words, and then those 
who desired to become St. George Knights, 
were invited to step forward and sign the 
pledge-roll. 

A silence, eloquent with meaning, followed. 
Then there was a stir, and a man walked slow- 
ly to the front. Could it be? Yes, Tyler 
Matthews wrote his name with a firm hand. 
Then turning to the audience, he said : 

“ I’ve done visiting the Maypole. When I 
found out my boy was being led inter bad 
habits at the tavern, I made up my mind ter 
turn over a new leaf, an’ I hope you’ll all help 
me ter keep the pledge.” 

Enthusiastic applause greeted Matthews’ 
speech. His example and words encour- 
aged weaker ones, and Tom Barton and Thom- 
as Riley, came to the front and wrote their 
names. These men then went to the rear of 


2X1 


Si. George Knights. 

the hall, and surrounding Carl Schmidt, began 
to hold earnest conversation. 

“ Come on, Carl, and put your name down. 
It'll make a man of you, and you’ll feel ever so 
much better. What you hangin’ back fur? 
’Fraid ter be one of the parson’s string ? I 
tell you it’s a boss thing fur a man ter be in 
sech good company es Parson Strong’s. He’s 
the man what’s the friend ter coves like us.” 

At last, half ashamed of his cowardice, and 
emboldened by the words of his cronies, Carl 
came forward and added his signature to the 
list. Again the hall rang with applause. 

“ Velly goot,” said the pleased German, “ I 
no git von clap pefore.” 

“Are there any more who desire to join our 
ranks ? ” said Mr. Strong, when the laughter 
had subsided. 

A firm step was heard walking to the front, 
and a manly form appeared by the minister’s 
side. It was Ralph Seabury ! 

“ I wish to sign the total abstinence pledge, 
and to become a St. George Knight,” said the 
young man, determination looking from his 
eyes. “ Pray for me that I may be helped to 
overcome the dragon’s power.” 

Ralph Seabury’s name was added to the 
list ; the accustomed hand-shakings and con- 


232 Slaying the Dragon. 

gratulations followed, and the meeting closed. 

“ Young Seabury is saved,” said Mr. Strong 
to his wife. “ He will make a noble Christian, 
yet. The hand of God is in all this,” he add- 
ed reverently. 










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The wave is mighty, but the spray is weak : 
So ever do our great and high resolves, 
Grand in their forming, as the ocean wave^ 
Break in the spray of nothing/' 


( 234 ) 


CHAPTER XXII. 


POOR RALPH. 

Theke are moments in ofr lives when such 

As WILL NOT HELP TO LIFT US, STRIKE US DOWN; 

When the green bough just bends so near our 

CLUTCH, 

When the light rope so easily were thrown, 
They are our murderers that beheld us drown.^^ 

3Irs, Norton, 

Ralph Seabury went at once to the library, 
where, as he expected, Mr. Felton and the 
Judge were engaged in earnest conversation. 
That he was the subject of their thought, he 
had no doubt from the look of anxiety which 
deepened upon their faces as he entered. 
Without pausing to hear what they might have 
to say, Ralph walked to the table and said, 

“ Father, I have to-night publicly signed the 
total abstinence pledge.^' 

What ? '' roared the Judge. 

Ralph repeated his words. 

Ralph Seabury,'' said his father, in a terri- 

( 235 ) 


236 Slaying the Dragon. 

ble rage, “ I am ashamed of you. You have 
simply added a fresh disgrace to the other dis- 
grace by doing this thing publicly. Couldn’t 
you simply make up your mind to do this with- 
out becoming the laughing-stock of the town, 
and joining the parson’s string of teetotallers ? 
It is extremely mortifying to me to be obliged 
to own that ?. Seabury cannot use modera- 
tion.” 

The Judge paused to regain breath, and Mr. 
Felton hastened to shield his nephew from a 
fresh attack. 

“ My boy, I am truly delighted to know 
that you have decided to stand on the total ab- 
stinence ground. It is your only safe course. 
Yours is another case where extreme measures 
must be used. But I am sorry that you took so 
public a step without consulting your father or 
me. I could easily have drawn you up a 
pledge, and you could have signed it quietly, 
and thus have avoided the gossip it is now 
sure to create. You have sadly wounded your 
father’s feelings by your rash act, and given 
Mr. Strong a rich triumph, over which he will 
undoubtedly exult. You well know that the 
minister tries to thwart your father in every- 
thing he undertakes.” 

Ralph’s face had slowly darkened during 


237 


Poor Ralph. 

these words. Then he replied sullenly, “You 
needn’t think to change my opinion of Mr. 
Strong by your words. I like the man because 
he is willing to place himself on the level with 
drunkards, and help them by his words and 
example on to better things.” 

“ I hope you do not call yourself a drunk- 
ard,” expostulated the ex-minister. 

“ If I am not, what am I ? ” replied the 
young man, bitterly. 

“ Leave us, Ralph,” cried the Judge, in harsh 
tones. “If it has come to this, that you are 
in league with that detestable Strong, it is time 
something was done. Don’t come into my 
presence until you think differently. What do 
you stand there like a statue for ? I mean 
what I say. Away with you ! ” 

Wounded by the treatment he had received, 
the devil within aroused by the harsh words of 
his father, Ralph rushed from the room and 
went to his uncle’s chamber, thinking to have a 
talk with him later about leaving Fairport. 
He entered the room. A pungent odor salut- 
ed his nostrils. Looking eagerly around, he 
spied a bottle half full of wine, and near it a 
glass with its contents partly drained. Uncle 
Phineas had been called away from his after- 
dinner siesta, and had left things as Ralph 


238 Slaying the Dragon. 

found them. The tiger in the young man’s 
breast was aroused. The curse of an inherited 
passion was upon him. His face grew ghastly 
pale. The veins in his forehead knotted, and 
great drops of sweat rolled down his cheeks. 
Oh, the awful agony of that moment ! Oh, for 
some strong hand to dash the temptation from 
1 is sight! Angels and devils v/atched the 
issue with jealous interest. 

“ Ralph Seabury, I am ashamed of you,” rang 
the harsh tones of his father, in his ears. Un- 
happy recollection 1 The demon within him 
burst its chains, and with the muttered words, 

“ If father and Uncle Phineas are ashamed 
of me because I signed the pledge, I don’t care. 
Here goes 1 ” 

He seized the glass, filled it from the bottle, 
and once, twice, thrice drained it. Then Ralph 
Seabury realized what he had done. Remorse 
filled his soul. Thoughts of his broken pledge, 
his public disgrace, and his father’s sneers, star- 
ed him in the face. His mental agony was 
terrible to witness. The wine flew to his brain. 
His imagination, weakened by disease, be- 
came distorted. Maddened by the thought of 
what he had done, he rushed to his room, shut 
and locked the door. 

For an hour or more. Judge Seabury and 


239 


Poor Ralph. 

Mr. Felton, sat in the library, planning how 
they might circumvent Ralph’s rash act, when 
their confidential chat was interrupted by the 
sharp report of a pistol. 

“My God!” cried Mr. Felton. “It cannot be 
that Ralph has — ” the words froze on his lips. 

Both men rushed from the room and hasten- 
ed to Ralph’s chamber. It was locked. Forc- 
ing the door, they found the young man lying 
on his face, mortally wounded. He smiled a 
bitter smile as they lifted him to the bed, and 
sent for Doctor Slocum. 

“ I shan’t trouble you much longer, father, 
with my disgraceful conduct. Uncle Phineas, 
you will find the wine bottle in your chamber, 
nearly empty. I have only followed hard in 
your footsteps. I don’t blame you,” he added, 
noting the look of anguish which flitted across 
the old man features, “ but uncle, you have 
been mistaken.” 

Judge Seabury fell down by his boy’s bedside, 
and wept like a child. “ My boy, forgive me, 
if you can. Only live, and I will be a different 
man.” 

“ Father — it’s — too — late.” The gray shad- 
ow crept across the handsome young face, and 
with a convulsive shudder, Ralph Seabury was 
dead. 


If thou art rich, thou’rt poor ! 

For like an ass whose back with ingots bows, 
Thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, 
And Death unloads thee. 

Shakespeare. 

( 240 ) 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


REPENTANCE. 

Knowledge by suefeeing enteeeth, 

And lifeTs peefected theough death.^’ 

The next morning, as Mr. Strong had just 
entered his study, to begin his sermon, a sud- 
den ring of the door-bell called him down- 
stairs. Great was his surprise at seeing the 
Rev. Phineas Felton, for the ex-minister had 
not stepped a foot across the parsonage thres- 
hold since the time when he had taken the 
young minister to task for forming the St. 
George League. 

He aided the old man at once into his 
study, wondering all the time at the haggard 
face and hesitating manner of his visitor. 
‘‘ Mr. Felton is breaking down,'' he thought. 

How infirm he seems this morning." 

The minister was terribly shocked at the 
sad news of Ralph Seabury's violent death. 
Mr. Felton told the whole story, sparing neither 

16 ( 241 ) 


242 Slaying the Dragon. 

himself nor the Judge. His self-reproaches 
were painful to hear. 

“ Mr. Strong,” he said, “ I have prided my- 
self on my sound logic. I have upheld mod- 
erate drinking by precept and example. I 
have called the Bible an advocate of my pet 
theory, and in every way possible I opposed 
you in your noble work. I encouraged my 
poor nephew in his downward course by my 
example. I believed myself to be right. But 
God has .shown me my woful mistake. He 
has caused the scales to drop from my 
eyes. He has tried to teach me in various 
ways, but I would not listen until he touched 
me in the person of one whom I loved as a 
son. Now I see my folly, alas, too late to save 
Ralph. His dying words, ‘ Uncle Phineas, I 
have only followed in your footsteps,’ will ring 
in my ears till my dying day. Do you think 
there is forgiveness for such as I ? ” 

The tears rained down the old man’s cheeks 
during this recital. No one would have re- 
cognized the proud, self-righteous clergyman 
in that humble, broken-hearted man. Yet 
never had the nobility of Mr. Felton’s charac- 
ter been so apparent. The germs of true 
piety were in his heart, and when the breath 
of the Divine Spirit was allowed access it 


Repmtance. 


243 


awakened them to life, and they sprang up and 
bore the fruits of humility, love and temper- 
ance. 

Mr. Strong was deeply moved at the sight 
of the old man’s anguish. All that had been 
said or done by this brother minister to wound 
his feelings in the temperance controversy van- 
ished from his mind, and taking Mr. Felton’s 
hand, he said : 

“ Do not condemn yourself so unsparingly, 
my brother. God has been leading you. His 
ways are inscrutable. We may not speak 
when the Almighty works. You have been 
mistaken, but who of us has not ? ” 

“ Can you forget how antagonistic I have 
been ? God knows I never can.” 

“ Never mention that again, Mr. Felton. I 
bear you only the tenderest feelings. We 
stood on different platforms and therefore we 
clashed. Now, by the grace of God, we can 
clasp hands and work in sympathy. Your 
superior wisdom and keen insight will be in- 
valuable to me in my future work.” 

“ But think of the harm my example has 
done ; how many souls it has led to ruin ! 
Though I may work all the rest of my life for 
the temperance cause, I can never undo the 
terri’ole work which is all ready done. I can 


244 


Slaying the Dragon. 

never bring back that bright young life, just 
blossoming into manhood. My God, have 
mercy on his soul ! Have mercy on his un- 
happy father ! Have mercy on me ! ” 

Mr. Strong could say but little to comfort the 
heart-broken man. Alas, what Mr. Felton had 
said was too true. He never could recall his 
influence. It had gone forever. Kneeling by 
the bowed figure of the old man, he commend- 
ed him to the One of whom it is written, ‘ Like 
as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
pitieth them that fear him : for He knoweth 
our frame ; He remembereth that we are 
dust.” 

“ How does Judge Seabury bear his sorrow ? ” 
inquired Mr. Strong, after the ex-minister had 
recovered somewhat. 

“ For a few hours he raved like a maniac, 
condemning me and condemning himself. Lat- 
er he fell into a stupor, and I fear the conse- 
quences. It has broken him all to pieces, and 
he will never be the same man. The Judge 
has seen a great deal of trouble, Mr. Strong.” 

“Yes, I know it. Poor man, he has never 
found refuge upon the Rock of Ages. He 
thinks I am his deadly enemy. Little does he 
know my heart. By the way, he has a treas- 
ure in his little daughter. Olive Seabury will 


Repentance. 245 

make a noble Christian woman if her life is 
spared.” 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Felton absently, rising 
to depart. “ Poor Ralph,” he whispered, as he 
walked slowly down the steps. 


Yet with the woes of sin and strife, 

The world has suffered long ; 

Beneath the angel strain have rolled 
Two thousand years of wrong ; 

And men at war with men, 

Hear not the love-song which they bring: 
Peace to the earth, good will to men 
From heaven's all-gracious King ! " 

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load, 
Whose forms are bending low. 

Who toil along the climbing way 
With painful steps and slow ; 

Look now ! for glad and golden hours 
Come swiftly on the wing, 

O rest beside the weary road. 

And hear the angels sing : 

Peace to the earth, good will to men 
From heaven’s all-gracious King.” 

E. H. Sears. 


( 246 ) 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE '' BONES SPEAK. 


And thus the whirligig of Time brings in his 

REVENGES.^^ 


Tivelftli Night 


Maurice Dow had been a student at the 
Dummer Academy several months, and was 
fast winning the esteem of both teachers and 
pupils by his manly bearing, and brilliant recita- 
tions. The principal told him that with diligent 
application he could fit him for college in two 
years; an announcement which brought great 
joy to the boy's heart, for he knew his means 
were limited. True, Mr. Strong and Deacon 
Ray had agreed to advance the necessary funds, 
biit young Dow was too proud to accept aid 
longer than was needful. He liked to be in- 
dependent, and to secure this end, he labored 
both before and after school to turn an honest 
penny. 

One morning the post-boy brought a thick 
packet addressed to Mr. Maurice Dow. It 

( 247 ) 


248 Slaying the Dragon. 

was quite an event for Maurice to receive a 
letter, and the boys clustered around eager to 
witness its opening. Maurice did not gratify 
their curiosity, but hastened to his room, a 
thrill of expectancy creeping over him at the 
sight of the strange document. Unsealing it 
with trembling fingers, he read as follows : 

'' My dear Grandson : God be praised 
for his marvellous doings ! He hath caused 
even the dry bones to speak, and the mystery 
which surrounded your birth is now solved. 

‘‘Maurice, you are my grandson, my son 
Jamie's boy. You have a right to the name 
of Dow, and thank God that name is legally 
yours. Before opening the enclosed letter, 
and which, Maurice, is in your mother’s hand» 
writing, let me tell you how these events were 
brought to light. From the time you were 
cast ashore till you became a stout lad, Peter 
MacDuff hated you. His wife told me as 
much ; Peter’s actions emphasized the same. 
Mr. Strong told me years ago that there was 
a something about the man’s actions which 
betokened guilt. He remembered walking on 
the beach, the afternoon following the ship- 
wreck, and coming suddenly upon MacDuff. 
The man was partially concealed behind a 


249 


The “ Bones ” Speak, 

rock, and seemed to be trying to hide some- 
thing. He started, as tliough frightened at 
the minister’s sudden appearance, and was 
very surly and cross to Mr. Strong. 

“ From this time Peter showed an intense 
hatred for the minister, and you well remem- 
ber the time he attempted to murder our noble 
pastor. Peter’s strange disappearance was 
soon forgotten, and his secret was supposed to 
have perished with him. But God ordered 
otherwise. As some men were cutting down 
trees in the Essex woods last week they came 
across the skeleton of a man. It was Peter 
MacDuff ! 

“ Doubtless he laid down to sleep off his 
drunken fit and perished with the cold. Be- 
side him was a tin box. On opening this a 
smaller box was seen, and on the lid was a let- 
ter addressed to Mrs. Erastus Dow, Fairport, 
Mass., U. S. A. These were brought directly 
to me. The inner box contained some trink- 
ets, a gold locket, et cetera, which your mother 
owned. Peter stole the box during the con- 
fusion attending the shipwreck, and being too 
much of a coward to dispose of the contents, 
he kept them all these years. He could not 
read, so had not thought it necessary to de- 
stroy the letter. Possibly he might have fan- 


250 Slaying the Dragon. 

cied the paper possessed monetary value. At 
any rate he had not destroyed it. Had he 
done so you might never have known the story 
of your birth. Read now the letters enclosed. 
First your mother’s letter, then the one Mr. 
Strong wished me to send at the same time. 
I desire you to take a leave of absence as 
soon as possible, that I may trace some resem- 
blances in your face to that of the son I lost, 
and your father. May God bless and keep 
you, my grandson ! 

“ Phoebe Dow.” 

Maurice was bewildered at the sudden- 
ness of the good news, and his heart swelled 
with emotion as he gazed upon his mother’s 
delicate handwriting, and thought how her 
fingers traced those letters on that paper, now 
yellow with age. With beating heart he un- 
folded the paper, and read the contents : 

“ To Mrs. Erastus Dow, 

“ My Adopted Mother : 

“ My name is Marguerite Dow. On the 
tenth day of March, eighteen hundred and 
fifty, T was married to James Dow, your son. 
Enclosed please find our marriage certificate. 
My family name is Montaigne. Our son. 


251 


The ''Bones'' Speak, 

Maurice James Dow, was born January 
twelfth, eighteen hundred and fifty-one. My 
husband is about to take a several years voyage, 
and he wishes me to come to America and 
find my new mother and the boy's grand- 
mother. As I have no near relatives, I shall 
embark at once on the ship ‘ Good Hope.' 
I write this brief note and enclose it, together 
with the marriage certificate and a few prized 
relics, in a water-proof box, and address the 
same to you, that you may know of us in case 
anything should happen. 

Au revoir, mon cher amie. 

Marguerite Montaigne Dow.'' 

Great tears rolled down the boy's cheeks 
as he finished reading the letter, and thought 
of the little grave on the hillside where his 
mother's body was laid. But his tears were 
not tears of sorrow, so much as tears of joy at 
the goodness of God in lifting this cloud from 
his origin, and at last giving him the opportu- 
nity to stand before the world with an untar- 
nished name. Mr. Strong's letter was one of 
congratulation chiefly, although it contained 
some village news. Maurice had already learn- 
ed of Ralph Seabury's sad fate, but was not 
prepared to learn of Judge Seabury's death 


252 Slaying the Dragon. 

from apoplexy. The Judge had made a new 
will after Ralph’s death, and its contents were 
a surprise to all. Ralph’s portion of the es- 
tate was put into the hands of trustees to be 
used in reclaiming young men from the drag- 
on’s power. Another bequest was to the 
church in Fairport, to be used for the support 
of temperance preaching. Still another be- 
quest furnished money for the building of a 
handsome hall for the St. George League. 
Thus did Judge Seabury bring forth the fruits 
of repentance in his old age. He was found 
dead in his office, his hand still grasping a 
pencil, and before him was a paper with these 
words traced thereon : “ God be merciful to me, 
a sinner.” We trust there was pardon for this 
man, even though he sought it at the eleventh 
hour. God knows the heart and metes out jus- 
tice, tempered with mercy. It is not for us to 
judge our fellow-men. “Judge not, that ye 
be not judged,” said Jesus. 

“Let the wicked forsake his way, and the 
unrighteous man his thoughts, and let him 
turn unto the Lord, who will have mercy upon 
him, and to our God, for He will abundantly 
pardon.” 







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Fretted by the many crosses 
All must bear from day to day, 
Troubled by our cares and losses, 

Each of us hath need to say. 

To our hearts, impatient, crying 
For the ships so long at sea. 

While faith faints and hope is dying, 

** Dinna weary, bide a wee.” 

Mary J. McGill, 


( 254 ) 


CHAPTER XXV. 


AN UNEXPECTED GUEST. 

Oast thy beead upon the wateks ; eoe thou 

SHALT FIND IT AETEE MANY DAYS.” — Eccl. xi. 1. 

Great preparations were going on at Tom 
Kinmon’s cottage, for Maurice Dow was ex- 
pected home that day. Mrs. Dow had pro- 
vided an extra treat, and the boy’s favorite 
dishes were to appear on the supper table. 
Ever and anon she glanced at the clock, and a 
pleased smile hovered around her lips as she 
noted the approach of the longed for hour. 
The sound of footsteps called her to the win- 
dow. A stranger was coming up the path, 
satchel in hand. It was not Maurice, and 
Mrs. Dow turned away with an exclamation 
of impatience. She answered the knock at 
the door. The stranger asked to be allowed 
to rest for a short time, as he had travelled 
quite a long distance, and was weary. His 
request was granted, for Phoebe was too kind- 
hearted to turn any one from the door. 

(255) 


256 


Slaying the Dragon. 

“ How far have you travelled, sir ? ” 

“From New York,” answered the man, a 
strange look creeping over his face as he 
glanced at Mrs. Dow. 

The stranger was tall, with a stout, muscu- 
lar frame, bright blue eyes, and light curly 
hair. His heavy beard covered a mouth which 
trembled with emotion. His costume was 
partly that worn by the sailor, partly that of a 
landsman. 

“ Have you ever followed the sea ? ” asked 
Mrs. Dow, glancing inquiringly at the man’s 
Kersey jacket. 

“ Since I was eighteen years old,” replied 
the stranger, a moisture gathering in his eyes. 
Mrs. Dow was so busy preparing the supper 
that she noticed nothing. 

“ Perhaps you may have met my boy, James 
Dow, on some of your travels. He was a 
sailor.” 

Receiving no answer, Phoebe looked around. 
The sailor had arisen, and was stretching out 
his arms toward her. “ Mother,” he cried, 
“ don’t you know me ?” 

“Jamie, Jamie!” was the reply, and Mrs. 
Dov/ was clasped to the heart of her long lost 
son. 

Tom, Janet and Rob were called in to share 


An Unexpected Gtcest. 257 

in the great joy, and for a time questions were 
plied faster than answers could be given. So 
great was the surprise that the minutes passed 
unheeded, and not until the door opened and 
Maurice walked in did the company realize 
that the hour for his arrival had come and 
gone. When James Dow's eyes rested on the 
handsome face of the lad, he started back, and 
put his hand to his forehead. 

‘Mt is the face of my Marguerite," he whis- 
pered. 

Noticing his agitation, and divining the 
cause, ^Mrs. Dow immediately made father and 
son acquainted with each other. As soon as 
the general rejoicings and congratulations had 
subsided a little, supper was served, after 
which James Dow related his experiences 
since he left Fairport. 

He had taken a voyage to Australia, been 
twice shipwrecked, lost his wife and child, as he 
supposed, on the fated steamship ' Good Hope,' 
and learned from an old friend that his mother 
had died of grief He became a wanderer on 
the face of the earth, but his mother’s prayers 
had followed him wherever he went, and he 
had come back to his old home, a changed 
man. 

It was with a joyful heart that Mrs. Dow 
17 


258 Slaying the Dragon. 

listened as her son, now rescued from the dra- 
gon’s clutches, read from the Scriptures and 
offered a fervent prayer. 

“ My cup runneth over,” she said, with 
trembling lips. “ ‘ Surely goodness and mercy 
have followed me all the days of my life, and 
I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’ ” 





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Ring out the old, ring in the new, 

Ring happy bells across the snow : 

The year is going, let him go ; 

Ring out the false, ring in the true. 

Ring out the want, the care, the sin, 

The faithless coldness of the times ; 

Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, 
But ring the fuller minstrel in. 

Ring out false pride in place and blood, 

The civic slander and the spite ; 

Ring in the love of truth and right. 

Ring in the common love of good. 

Ring out old shapes of foul disease ; 

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold ; 
Ring out the thousand wars of old. 

Ring in the thousand years of peace. 

Ring in the valiant man and free. 

The larger heart, the kindlier hand; 

Ring out the darkness of the land. 

Ring in the Christ that is to be.^’ 

( 260 ) 


CHAPTER XXVL 


A JUBILEE OF TRIUMPH. 

‘‘ Haste thee on from grace to glory, 

Armed by faith and winged by prayer, 
Heaven’s eternal day’s before thee, 

God's own hand shall guide thee there. 

Soon shall close thy earthly mission. 

Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days; 

Hope shall change to glad fruition. 

Faith io sight, and prayer to praise.” 

The news of James Dow’s return spread 
like wildfire through the village, and all of 
Phoebe’s neighbors and friends came to con- 
gratulate her. Mr. Strong rejoiced in his 
faithful friend's happiness, and found in James 
Dow an earnest Christian worker. 

Mrs. Dow was not the only one who reaped 
a harvest after many days.” Mr. Strong 
had been casting the seeds of truth and tem- 
perance broadcast these many years, trusting 
in the same Divine promise. The time had 
now come when he was to reap an hundred 
fold. 


( 261 ) 


262 


Slaying the Dragon. 

Town meeting had just come and gone. 
This fourth of March marked a red letter day- 
in the history of Fairport, for on this day the 
town voted “ no license ” by a large majority, 
and the dragon of intemperance received its 
death blow. A temperance board of select- 
men was chosen, and the work of extirpating 
the rum-shops began in earnest. The drag- 
on struggled, fire breathed from his nostrils, 
he uttered horrible cries — but the St. George 
Knights pressed bravelv forward. They held 
the shield of temperance before their faces ; 
the Sword of the Spirit was in their hands ; 
they carried the gospel message on their lips, 
and the mouth of the dragon was effectually 
stopped. In vain did he struggle ; the heel of 
the conqueror was on his neck. The dragon 
was slain. 

How much of this victory was due to the 
untiring labors of Mr. Strong the reader 
well knows. He had worked in the face of 
opposition these many years, had put aside 
his ambitious dreams, and contented himself 
with doing the Lord’s work in the place ap- 
pointed him. He had labored in season and 
out of season, in the sunshine and in the 
storm, now encouraged as he noted the good 
seed had taken root, now depressed as the 


A Jubilee of Triumph. 263 

thorns sprang up and choked the seed. He 
had sown bountifully, and now he reaped 
bountifully. Wives blessed him, for saving 
their husbands ; sisters, their brothers ; maidens 
their lovers ; and many, many homes were 
rescued from the dragon by the vigorous 
blows struck by this minister of righteousness. 
Oh faithful shepherd, thy crown shall outshine 
the stars in that great day when the Lord 
makes up his jewels. Thy patient toil amid 
darkness and discouragement will encourage a 
weaker brother to press forward. Thy glad 
fruition will cause him to “ labor and to wait,” 
remembering that the testimonies of the Lord 
are sure. Then 

‘ ‘ Breast the wave, Christian, when it is strongest ; 

Watch for day, Christian, when night is longest ; 

He that hath promised faltereth never, 

Oh, trust in the love which endureth forever ! ” 

Landlord Chase yielded very unwillingly to 
the dictates of the town authorities, and re- 
moved the bar from the Maypole. After pay- 
ing two heavy fines for selling liquor secretly, 
he left town amid general rejoicing. This was 
the opening James Dow had long desired. 
Having amassed quite a fortune while in Aus- 
tralia, he immediately bought the Maypole 


264 Slaying the Dragon. 

property, tore down the old building, and erect- 
ed a handsome hotel. It was to be a strictly 
temperance house. Tyler Matthews, now a 
steady, prosperous man, was installed as pro- 
prietor, and the St. George Hotel was celebra- 
ted far and near, as providing the choicest re- 
freshment for its guests. Mr. Dow also built 
a fine residence at the Cove, and thither he re- 
moved with his mother, taking Tom Kinmon 
and his wife, to share the comforts of the new 
home. Robert Kinmon is steadily rising in the 
esteem of Deacon Ray, and bids fair to be 
head clerk in the store before many years. 
The Kinmon girls are both teaching in the 
village. Maurice Dow is winning laurels in 
Yale College, and his ambition is to preach the 
gospel to those low down in the scale of hu- 
manity. He promises to develope into a strong, 
pioneer preacher, one who will strike vigorous 
blows for the truth, wherever he goes. It is 
rumored that Olive Seabury will be his life- 
long companion, and she will make a noble 
help-meet for him. She is fast developing in- 
to a strong Christian woman. 

The Seabury mansion has been closed since 
the Judge’s estate was settled, and Mrs. Sea- 
bury and Olive returned to Salem to reside 
Vv'ith Judge Archer’s widow. 


A yubilee of Triumph. 265 

Mr. Felton works, as much as his declining 
years will allow, for the temperance cause. Es- 
pecially does he labor to snatch young men 
from the dragon’s clutches, and his labors have 
been crowned with success. There has been a 
radical change in the man, and he grows sweet- 
er as he grows older. He loves Mr. Strong 
as a son, and this love is reciprocated. Mr. 
Strong finds the old ex-minister, a tower of 
strength and wisdom. 

Deacon Chapman and his wife are both dead, 
and John Chapman carries on his father’s farm. 
His brother’s sad experience sobered him, and 
by the grace of God he changed his course, 
and became a Christian man. Charlie Chap- 
man, Peter MacDuff, and Joe Chase, after serv- 
ing their time in the House of Correction, went 
to sea, and have not been heard from since. 

Doctor Slocum has become a helpless par- 
alytic. His indulgence of appetite invited dis- 
ease, and he is a fretful old man, a burden to 
his friends and a curse to himself He sowed 
to the flesh, and he now reaps corruption. 

Deacon Ray is also an old man. The 
frosts of nearly threescore years have whit- 
ened his locks but his heart is as young, 
and his face as full of sunshine as ever. So 
ought the Christian to grow old. Advancing 


266 


Slaying the Dragon. 

years should bring him the freshness of per- 
petual youth. Leaving the worthless rubbish 
of the past, he is privileged to stand on the 
heights of God and to breathe the airs of im- 
mortality. He, of all others, can sing at the 
close of life, 

" Say not good-night, but in some brighter clime 
Bid me good-morning.” 

Mr. Strong has received many flattering calls 
from larger parishes during his stay in Fairport, 
but as yet he has said “ No ” to them all. He 
loves his people with a peculiar love, and they 
dearly idolize their pastor. His son Frank is in 
Dartmouth, and Mr. Strong fondly hopes that 
his steps may be turned toward the ministry. 
Mrs. Strong longs to journey toward the land 
of the setting sun, where her kindred abide. 
A small, but wealthy parish in the heart of 
the great West has sought Mr. Strong, as a 
pastor, several times. If their offer is again 
renewed, and the indications point that way, he 
will probably leave Fairport. He feels that 
his work here is done, and that a change 
would be desirable for both pastor and people. 

And so we leave them, one and all, to take 
up their appointed tasks and do their appoint- 
ed work. We fain would linger about these 


A yubilee of Triumph. 267 

.firesides, and follow these lives on to their com- 
pletion, but the sun is setting. Its rays slant 
upon the earth, and the shadows lengthen. 
Thank God, they all point toward the morn- 
ing. 

Unto the dawn of that new Morning, unto 
the light of that perfect Day, Christian work- 
ers, “ Go Forward.” 








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